


Hell Hath No Fury Like a Witch Scorned

by EmileeMoon



Series: The Laurel Stories [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Demons, Enochian, F/M, Hunters, Magic, Romance, Salem, Witchcraft, magick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 66,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2417798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmileeMoon/pseuds/EmileeMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Supernatural Season 4</p>
<p>The Winchester brothers cross paths with an intriguing stranger, a hitchhiking girl that just so happens to be heading to the same place as their latest hunt: Salem Massachusetts. Little do they know that their paths have been destined to intertwine since childbirth. Secrets come to the surface and lives will be changed forever as they encounter one of the most dangerous Luciferian Seals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell Hath No Fury Like a Witch Scorned

“So, we have a couple options on what to hit next. There are supposed sightings of the Jersey Devil in Jersey; I don’t have a specific city so that’s kind of broad. Um, there are UFO sightings in Roswell…” Sam Winchester went over a very short list of supposed sightings of the supernatural.  
At the mention of UFO’s, Dean’s ears perked up.  
“New Mexico?” He shot up one eyebrow, looking intrigued as he picked at the biscuit he was holding.  
“Georgia.” Sam shot back, crossing that one off his list. Dean looked disappointed, but shrugged, and went back to picking at his biscuit.  
“Hey, this one looks good. It’s in Salem. There is a coven up there; apparently several of the members have gone missing; all abruptly and all in the past few months. Their coven pendants are the only thing found of them; tarnished and burned in appearance. They were reported missing, but the police seem to think that they just took off together, the other coven members think it was something more sinister, but apparently no one is really talking about it. This could be a good hunt.” Sam nodded his head, agreeing with what he just read aloud.  
“You know how I feel about witches, Sammy. They are just a bunch of bored housewives trying to lower their mortgage or get their husbands to actually DO something in bed. They dabble in things they just don’t understand.” Dean had finished his biscuit, and now slumped down over his orange juice, staring aimlessly at the yellow smears that were eggs, on his plate.  
“You know they aren’t all like that. There are actual witches that don’t use the devil in their craft. They are completely Earth based and use a broad pantheon of deities, mostly focusing on the female aspect of the Goddess.” Sam explained, scribbling some things down in a notebook, as he shoveled a fork full of hash browns into his mouth.  
“Sure. I’ll believe it when I see it.” Dean leaned back in the booth and propped his hands up behind his head. 

The diner they were sitting at was nestled in a little town in North Carolina. The name that adorned the top was The Neptune, the same name that was also given to the themed motel they were staying at attached to the back end of the restaurant. The front desk for the Motel and the high bar of the diner were combined, a register on each side; one for the eatery and the other for checking in to the motel. It was an odd combination, but typical for smaller places of this kind.

The bell above the entrance door to the diner tinkled, and Sam’s eyes flickered to the door for a second. A small statured girl entered, motorcycle helmet in hand.  
She walked up to the right side of the counter and rang the desk bell. A portly man, late thirties, with a grimy white collared shirt loped to up the desk.  
“No vacancy.” He grunted, writing shorthand on a small notepad and passing it to a waitress on his right.  
“You have to have something, anything. I’ll even let you charge me to stay in a storage closet, I just need a room.” The girl set her helmet on the counter and spread both palms out flat on the desk. She was looking at the top of the man’s head as he fiddled with the out of date computer attached to the register.  
“Missy, I got nothing here.” He looked up at her and his eyes went from dull and lifeless, to sparked with fire, “Unless you wanna bunk with me. I have one of the suites, got a water bed and a full sized Jacuzzi.” He slid his chubby little fingers over one of her small hands.  
She tried to shrink back in disgust, but he held her fast, licking his chapped lips as if she were to be his next meal.  
“I’ll even let you stay for free.” He winked at her and slid his hand higher up her arm.  
“No thanks.” She forced a weak smile and tried, once again, to pull her hand back; still to no avail.

Sam was watching this whole scene unfold, and soon it caught Dean’s attention as well. Sam crossed his arms in agitation at the man’s behavior, but didn’t move. Dean on the other hand was clicking his finger nails incessantly on the table top.  
“That’s it,” He mumbled and pushed himself up out of the booth.  
Dean’s hand shot out and gripped the man’s wrist.  
“Don’t you think you’re making this young lady a little uncomfortable?” He applied pressure to the man’s wrist, twisting slightly. The man loosened his grip on the girl’s arm involuntarily, and she pulled it back quickly.  
“That’s just bad customer service.” He smiled and dropped the man’s hand back down on the counter.  
The girl backed away slightly, rubbing her violated hand with the other and stared up at Dean.  
“You okay?” He furrowed his brow and stared down at her.  
“Yeah, just a little disgusted.” She responded in a lilting voice.  
Dean couldn’t take his eyes off her.  
Sam came up behind the pair and disrupted the awkward silence.  
“Keep the change.” He slammed a twenty down on the counter and came to stand beside Dean.  
“I’m Sam and this is my brother, Dean.” He stretched his arm out to the petite girl.  
She gripped it lightly and responded, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Laurel.”  
“I couldn’t help but over hear that you were trying to get a room, but they are all booked up? You could always crash in our room if you need to.” Sam gestured and gave a half smile. Dean wasn’t so keen on his idea and let it be known by a quick, sharp jab to Sam’s ribs with his elbow. Sam coughed, leaning to one side but continued to smile at the girl.  
“I couldn’t impose on you like that. I’m just some stranger and I wouldn’t want to make you boys feel uncomfortable with me there.” She shook her head slightly and grabbed her helmet.  
“It’s not like you can sleep in your car.” He gestured to her helmet; obviously all she had was the motorcycle.  
“I don’t know…” She thought for a moment, pursing her lips, “It would only be for the night if I did.” She peered over at Dean, who had a less than exhilarated look on his face.  
“Don’t worry about it.” She eyed Dean for a split second and then turned heel and was out the door, the bell tinkling a little louder than it did when she entered. 

“What’s wrong with you? Do you think a girl like that should spend the night out on the street?” Sam scolded Dean as he grabbed his jacket from the booth.  
“What I do think is that she’ll be fine, Sam. There’s something weird about her, and we don’t know her from Adam. Besides the fact that we have very important Hunter’s business to talk about since you want to head out to Salem tomorrow and our line of work really isn’t something you should discuss around civilians.” Dean threw his leather jacket on quickly and palmed his keys.  
“We don’t even have to talk about it tonight; we could discuss it in the car tomorrow morning.” Sam shoved at the diner door frustrated and it popped open harder than he expected.

Sitting out on the curb was Laurel, her helmet between her legs and a cigarette in her mouth. She had the hood of her jacket pulled low over her eyes and she fiddled with the peeling decals of her helmet.  
“Look at her, Dean. She’s alone and it’s kind of cold out here. Can we at least invite her into the room for a bit so she doesn’t have to just sit here?” Sam whispered at Dean.  
“Why can’t she just find another motel?” Dean rolled his eyes and then rethought that rhetorical question. There wasn’t another motel around this area for miles. She would just be sitting here for hours; waiting for the sun to go down and then waiting for it to come back up. She’d never be able to get any rest out here and it surely wouldn’t be safe; not with that sleazy motel manager eyeing her through the hazy diner windows.  
“Damnit, Sammy. Fine. Go talk to her.” He hissed, pulling up the collar on his jacket and slipping his Impala keys into his front pocket. He took off down the sidewalk, rounded the corner of the diner and was out if sight in a few seconds.

“Hey,” Sam slid down onto the curb next to Laurel.  
“Hi,” She responded, taking another puff off her cigarette.  
“I discussed things with my brother and he said it was fine if you wanted to stay the night in our motel room.” Sam leaned in a little closer to see under her hood.  
She looked out at him with the most piercing aqua colored eyes.  
“Thanks, Sam. That’s really sweet of you, but Dean doesn’t seem too keen on me and I don’t want to cause any trouble between the two of you. Plus, there’s something about your brother that is unsettling; no offense.” She took another drag.  
“None taken; I think he puts quite a few people off. He can be a bit aggressive.” Sam pursed his lips.  
“A bit.” Laurel responded, finishing her cigarette and flicking it into the partially empty lot.  
She stood up from the curb and sauntered over to a lime colored import cycle. She pulled a large purse from one of the saddle bags, rifled through it, and came back to Sam.  
“What room?” She asked cocking her head to the side.

When they entered the room Dean was lounged back on one of the twin beds flicking through the free HBO channels on the TV.  
“So, he convinced you to stay?” He questioned Laurel as her and Sam came to stand near the bed he was laying on; he didn’t even glance in their direction.  
“Yeah, he had to get down on one knee and beg me.” She sneered, slinging her bag on to the couch and unzipping her jacket.  
Dean peered at her from the corner of his eye, studying her.  
She was petite in size and stature, no taller than five feet. Her hair was long, cascading halfway down her back and it lay in loose, dark curls. Her eyes were a deep aqua against her pale skin, as Sam had noticed earlier and her lips were pursed in a soft pink pout. She was striking in appearance, but for some reason there was something off putting about her that Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on.  
Laurel kicked off her boots and plopped down on the 1970’s style sofa and folded her hands behind her head.  
“So, where are you headed, Laurel?” Sam questioned, flipping open a book that he had picked up off the nightstand.  
“Massachusetts.” Laurel responded, popping one ear bud headphone into her left ear as she cycled through a bright blue iPod.  
Dean shot a look at Sam, who barely caught it, and tensed up. Sam went on with his interrogation any way.  
“Massachusetts? That’s where we’re headed.” Sam spoke nonchalantly.  
Laurel cast a sideways glance at him and spoke, “What a coincidence. What part?”  
Dean tried to catch Sam’s eye again, to warn him not to be completely honest, but Sam charged forward with the conversation.  
“Salem, actually. We, uh, have family around there.” He caught himself before he gave away too much information. For some reason he couldn’t control his tongue around her.  
“Really, I’m headed to a place right outside of Salem.” She responded, tapping her foot on the arm rest of the couch to a Black Sabbath song that could be heard blaring from her iPod.  
Dean’s brow rose at her response and he glared at her involuntarily. Something was strange about her. What were the odds that she’d be heading to almost the exact same place that they were? A decision that they had only made minutes before she walked through the door of the diner. She seemed so casual about everything; too casual. Maybe he was being too critical of her; or maybe he was just being cautious enough. Dean and his brother were pretty much fugitives and anyone who was associated with the law or the world of the supernatural knew who they were; yet this girl seemed clueless, even though it was apparent do Dean she knew something. Maybe he was just overreacting.  
“Do you see something that interests you, Dean?” Laurel’s sweet voice broke through Dean’s thought bubble. He hadn’t been aware that he was staring at her so blatantly.  
Sam took his attention away from the book he was reading, and looked back and forth between his brother and Laurel.  
“Not in particular. I was just thinking.” He retorted, averting his eyes from her stare.  
“Well, don’t think too hard now, Dean. We don’t want you to have an aneurism.” She giggled dryly and went back to her music.  
‘Who is this girl?’ Dean roared inside his head, ‘I don’t even know her and she’s speaking to me like…like,’ He was so angry he couldn’t even finish his rant inside his head. He rolled over in his bed and pulled the pillow over his face. He may have looked like he was pouting to her, but he was brooding; stewing.  
The combination of his frustration and the fact that neither he nor Sam had really slept the night before took over, and Dean fell into a fitful sleep, with his head still beneath his pillow.  
He dreamed of Laurel. Nothing in the dream seemed to piece together to make any real sense, but he kept seeing her face; her eyes, and fleeting glimpses of her. It scared him, yet she was such an intrigue to him. What was it about her that drove him so crazy?

 

Dean awoke to semi darkness. The sun had gone down and the only light source in the room peeked from the cracked door to the bathroom. He slowly opened his eyes and peered around the room.  
It was empty, but he could hear water running inside the bathroom; the shower.  
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and stretching rather loudly. Dean assumed it was Sam in the shower, but where was Laurel?  
‘Maybe she just decided to take off. It would make it much easier on me.’ He thought, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and flexing his feet. He stood and wandered over to the mini fridge in the corner of the room. He opted for a bottle of water instead of a miniature bottle of Jack, much to his chagrin.  
Sam walked out of the bathroom as Dean chugged his bottle of water.  
“So, where’s Laurel.” Dean gasped between long gulps.  
“She said something about going to get cigarettes and a few things from the vending machine.” Sam replied lazily, drying his hair with a worn towel.  
“Oh,” Dean raised an eyebrow, and crushed the plastic bottle in his hand. He was slightly disappointed, but there was something in the back of his mind that was tugging at him.  
“What time is it?” Sam questioned, as he walked back into the bathroom and started brushing his teeth.  
“10:42.” Dean responded, plopping down on the edge of the bed.  
Sam stopped brushing his teeth and called out to Dean.  
“She’s been gone almost an hour. It doesn’t take that long to get a pack and some chips. I’m going to go look for her.” He spit toothpaste in the sink and immediately started putting his shoes on.  
“Wait, Sammy. I’ll go. You relax.” He slid his feet into his boots, not even bothering to tie them, and threw on his jacket.  
“If I’m not back in 20, bring the salt and your shotgun.” Dean called over his shoulder as he opened the motel door.  
Sam just rolled his eyes as he heard the click of the door shutting behind Dean.

 

Dean walked along the sidewalk outside the room, heading to where he knew the vending machine was. She wasn’t at the vending machine, but she was standing in front of the Impala a few yards down, her back towards him.  
‘She better not be eyeing my baby.’ Dean thought defensively, strolling up behind her. He walked slowly, wondering if he could catch her doing something less than savory.  
“Hi, Dean.” Laurel’s sweet voice broke through the crisp night air. How had she heard him? How did she even know it was him?  
“Um, Hey.” Dean strode up to stand beside her as she puffed on a cigarette.  
She was staring aimlessly at the Impala, studying it perhaps, but Dean wasn’t quite sure. She crossed in front of him to the hood of the car and trailed her fingers across the right headlight and kept walking. She then crouched down and peered under the car, as if she’d find something unusual there. Dean had no clue what she was up to.  
“ 327 four barrel; 275 horses?” She questioned, making her way over to the left side of the car. She peered into the side mirror and fixed a few hairs out of place on her head.  
“Yeah, exactly.” Dean was shocked that she knew anything about cars. He was speechless.  
“Trunk so big you could fit a body in it; maybe two.” She grinned a pixie like grin and tapped her fingers on the trunk.  
Dean chuckled and swore under his breath, “That’s about right.” He commented thinking ‘Either that or a hell of a weapons arsenal.’  
She had almost come full circle around the car when she got to the right side and knelt down by the door. She laid her hands flat on the timeless metal and ran them across the door.  
“You almost can’t tell that the car was hit on this side.” She sighed, staring into the reflective surface of the door.  
“What?” That comment threw Dean for a loop.  
The car had been damaged some four years prior and Dean had worked diligently to fix the mangled vehicle. He had succeeded quite well, so he had thought, and the mention of the wreck made him ache in his gut. That wreck not only ruined his pride and joy, but also indirectly took his father’s life.  
“Did you replace the frame?” She questioned, standing up and backing herself up next to Dean.  
“Yeah, I had to. It was bent so badly the whole car would have been crooked let alone the fact that she never would have gotten anywhere on four wheels.” Dean leaned a little to his left, involuntarily rubbing shoulders with the small girl.  
“I’m sorry, Dean.” She looked up at him under her brow. It was furrowed in thought. She took one last drag and flicked the butt into the parking lot.  
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about.” He met her gaze and sighed almost inaudibly. She really meant what she said. It made him ache even more.  
Dean decided to change the subject.  
“So, where exactly are you headed tomorrow?” Dean inquired leaning up against the Impala and crossing his ankles.  
“Well, I’m supposed to be heading to an auto body shop on the outskirts of Salem, but I’m not quite sure I’ll make it there in time.” Laurel rolled her eyes and lit up another smoke.  
“On time? You have a deadline?” Dean raised a brow and turned towards her.  
“Ready for a long story?”  
Dean nodded his head, prodding her to go on.  
“Ok, so I live, well lived, in Salem. I had very important business to attend to out of town about six months ago. I had a little accident with my car about 15 miles outside of Salem, so it prohibited me from furthering my business. I contacted my boyfriend at the time who let me borrow that little green beauty you saw out in front of the diner.”  
“Well, as time went on he became less of a boyfriend and more of a pain in the ass, so we split but he still let me use the motorcycle because he’s nice that way.”  
“Collateral to hold over your head for something, am I correct?” Dean asked.  
“Correct. He is the one that had my car towed to the auto shop; he paid for it in his name to get it fixed. Now he wants his motorcycle back and he wants it back now or he’s taking my car. The catch is even if I let him come pick the bike up tomorrow, that means I still have to hitch to get to Salem on time before the shop takes my car because it’s been sitting up there for six months with no claim.” She grunted and crossed her arms, still smoking.  
“Well…” Dean began when he was cut off by Sam.  
“There you guys are; I was starting to get worried.” He was smiling as he strode up to the two.  
“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Why don’t you just hitch a ride with us?” Sam took position on Laurel’s opposite side from Dean.  
Dean let his arms drop loudly from their folded position, and clang up against the Impala.  
He was still very wary of the girl and didn’t want just anyone riding in his backseat. It wasn’t like she was some helpless female that had fallen victim to one of their hunts; she was up to something, Dean just couldn’t wrap his head around it.  
“You know, Dean. If you have such a problem with me, speak up because your brother seems to think there’s nothing wrong with me but you treat me like the fucking plague.” Laurel dropped her cigarette she had just lit where she stood, glaring at him with hurtful eyes, and stormed back to the motel room.

“You have no tact, Dean.” Sam glared at him, but in a much different manner from Laurel. “She isn’t going to murder us and stuff us in the trunk. I’m sure she won’t even try to pull anything out of character for a poor girl that’s a little down on her luck. Why can’t you just trust my judgment?” Sam inquired, tapping his foot on the asphalt.  
“I have three words for you, Sammy; demon girl and werewolf. Not to mention you have an addiction to women with baggage in general. For all I know this girl could be some psychotic asylum escapee!” Dean roared, now pacing.  
“And that would differ how, from what we deal with on a daily basis? I would say if that were the case that she would be a welcomed change to our day to day lives.” Sam was starting to get all emotional and Dean wasn’t going to have that.  
“It’s out of the question, Sam. I just don’t trust her! Dean slammed his fist down on the hood of the Impala.  
“Typical, Dean. Approach it with anger and no heart.” Sam spun around and headed back for the room, leaving Dean cussing under his breath by the car.

 

“Don’t even bother apologizing, Sam. I know you’d drive me if it was your car. For some reason your brother just has a strong distaste for me.” Laurel’s voice was muffled as she lay face down in a pillow.  
“Dean was just raised not to trust anybody. Something my father instilled in him too well.” Sam sat at Laurel’s feet on the arm rest of the couch.  
She turned her face from the pillow and spoke, “It seems to me that the same morals, for lack of a better word, were not instilled in you.” She sat up and scooted closer to Sam.  
“Ha, yeah. I’m the sensitive one; Dean’s the bad boy.” Sam mocked him slightly, flipping up the collar on his jacket.  
Laurel giggled lightly, twisting a lock of hair between her fingers as she stared at the floor.  
“It’s not a big deal if I hitchhike, Sam. I may make it there on time.” Laurel looked up at Sam from under her brow, making her oceanic eyes seem bright, yet sad. He felt a sinking in his gut; he felt for her.  
“I’ll see what I can do, Laurel. Dean can be persuaded.” Sam reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder as Dean came through the door, slamming it rather loudly.

“We need to get some sleep, Sammy. If we are going to make it to Salem before night fall we’ll have to leave early in the morning.” Dean slipped off his jacket and hung it on one of the kitchen chairs. He went to the mini fridge and opted for the bottle of Jack this time, instead of the water.  
Sam stared at him warily as he drank it in one gulp.  
“Nightcap.” He toasted them as he tossed it into the trash can by the night stand, kicked his boots off, and swung into the bed.  
“Night, Sammy.” He pulled the pillow over his head and rolled over.

“I guess we should get some sleep, Sam.” Laurel sighed, slipping off her own boots. She smiled at him again and reached her hand out to touch his face. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll be fine. I’ve taken care of myself on my own for a long time.”  
Sam furrowed his brow at her soft touch, and stood from the couch as she curled up under her jacket.  
“Night, Laurel.” He crossed the room, kicking off his own shoes as he crawled into bed.

 

Sam dreamed of leaving Laurel behind and never seeing her again. It was as if he lost a piece of himself and this girl had taken it with her. She was under his skin and he couldn’t even understand why. It made his gut ache again; made him sick to his stomach. Why couldn’t Dean just trust him on this?  
Dean’s dreams, however, were different. He was running away from her, yet she kept finding him. Whether on purpose or by accident; every town they went to, she was there; watching him. Her face was haunting, especially her eyes, boring a hole straight through him into places he had long forgotten. She stirred something so primal, so child-like inside of him and he feared it. Fear that he’d feel something again; fear that he’d completely lose it forever. All he could do was toss and turn in his fitful sleep.

 

Dean awoke before the sun had completely risen. He pulled the pillow away from his face and stared bleary eyed in the semi darkness. He could smell the scent of watered down flowers coming from the bathroom; the scent of hot steam from the shower. He looked over towards the couch where Laurel had fallen asleep; she was gone.  
It startled him out of his groggy state and he swung out of the bed and meandered over to the couch. There was a folded up piece of paper on the pillow with ‘Dean’ scrawled on the front of it. He picked it up and took it to the kitchen table, flicking on the over head light as he went, and sat down in the chair with his jacket draped over the back of it. He unfolded the paper and read:

‘Dean,  
I realize that my presence, for some reason, leaves a bad taste in your mouth.  
I’m sorry for that.  
Just know that I harbor no negative feelings for you. It’s probably best that you and your brother didn’t let me hitch with you on your trip. I would only cause you trouble. I wish you both well and I hope that you enjoy your visit with your family up in Salem.  
Maybe we will meet again sometime.  
Laurel  
P.S. (Don’t forget me, Dean)

Dean blinked and reread the P.S.  
‘Don’t forget me, Dean’ echoed in his mind. What was with this girl? Her presence gnawed at his mind, eating a hole into his emotions. He hated her. He hated that she stirred up so many feelings inside him.  
When had she written this note? When had she readied herself and left? Maybe it was recent and he had time to catch her before she hitched a ride into Salem.  
He slipped on his boots and jacket and went and checked on Sam. He was snoring lightly in his twin bed and the clock on the night stand read 6:32.  
“I’ll be back, Sammy.” He whispered, and slipped out the door.

The morning air was crisp, and he could smell the dew in the breeze. The sky was thick and light gray, a sheer fog lay low in the parking lot and spread out as far as his eyes could see; strange weather from the clear coolness of the night before. Dean still clutched Laurel’s note in his hand as he headed down the awning covered sidewalk that led to the parking lot in front of the diner.  
There she sat, knees drawn up to her face, a cigarette in hand. Her bag was slung over her shoulder and her hood was pulled up over eyes. He couldn’t tell how she was feeling by her stance. Maybe she was upset; maybe she was just waiting for the right time to hitch a ride, either way he was going to stop her from leaving. Dean had to throw caution to the wind and not let her go, or at least not let her leave on these terms, but he was determined to make her stay.  
“Laurel?” Dean’s voice broke through the silence in the air.  
The girl looked up at him, seemingly unfazed by his presence.  
As if she had a sudden realization as to who he was, she blurted, “Dean!” and stood up from her position on the curb.  
“What are you doing awake so early?” She queried, re-shouldering her bag as she shifted her stance beside him.  
“I, uh, drank too much water before I went to bed.” He lied, touching his lower abdomen, and grinned lopsidedly, “I noticed you weren’t in the room, and then I found your note.” He pulled the slightly crumpled, folded piece of paper from his pocket.  
“Oh. Come to wish me well on my trip?” She cocked her head to one side and folded her arms.  
“Not exactly, I was coming to stop you from hitchhiking with some toothless trucker.” The wind blew around them and he caught Laurel’s scent; the smell of musky cherry blossoms and honeysuckle.  
“What do you mean, ‘stop me’?” Always with the questions.  
“I mean, I want you to ride with Sam and me up to Salem. I thought about it and I, well, I want you to be safe. Sam and I won’t let anything happen to you.” Dean was staring at the asphalt, shuffling his feet a little as he spoke.  
“So, Dean Winchester does have a heart?” Laurel smiled, poking him in the shoulder in an attempt to get him to look at her.  
The prod worked, and Dean glanced up at her for a moment, his shifting hazel eyes catching her attention. She took in a sharp breath as Dean responded.  
“Yeah, well, just don’t go spreading around that I have a sensitive side.” Dean leaned in close to Laurel, as if his statement was a secret.  
“I solemnly swear; I won’t tell anyone.” Laurel laughed, holding her hand up in the air as if she were under oath.  
Dean shook his head at her sarcastic joke and beckoned to her to follow him back to the room. Maybe this girl wasn’t up to no good like he thought; maybe she was nothing more than a poor girl down on her luck as Sam had said. But Dean still believed there was more to her than what meets the eye.

 

When they arrived back at the motel room, Sam was already awake and packing up his things into a backpack. He had a toothbrush dangling from his mouth as he shoved several leather bound volumes into his bag.  
His eyes lit up when he saw Laurel.  
“Ah roo coming wiff us?” He tried to speak around the tooth brush, making his speech comical at best. Laurel smiled softly and nodded as Dean headed to his bed and the nightstand, scooping up some of his belongings and dumping them in his own bag.  
Sam headed to the bathroom to spit and grab his toiletries and returned as Dean had finished packing himself.  
“Are we ready, Sammy?” Dean questioned, slinging his bag over his shoulder.  
“Yup, I’m all packed up.” Sam responded, mimicking Dean.  
“We better get going then. We have very little time to get Laurel where she’s going.” Dean threw Laurel a lopsided grin and they all headed for the door.

 

Laurel lay propped up in the back seat of the Impala, window rolled down, iPod on, and eyes closed. The cooler air of that morning faded into a rather warm, sunny day with a cool breeze that whipped her dark locks around her face as Dean sped down the highway, heading north towards Salem.  
The brothers sat in their usual positions talking quietly to one another, trying not to disturb Laurel’s peaceful meditation.

“We have about an eleven hour drive to Salem. With the way I drive that should put us there around four or five.” Dean was munching away on a breakfast burrito as Sam squinted down at a map, and then folded it rather messily and tossed it in the glove compartment.  
“What changed your mind, Dean?” Sam questioned, leaning in closer to his brother.  
“What?” Dean grunted between bites of his breakfast.  
“You were so distrusting with her and now all of a sudden you seem rather…I don’t know, excited that she’s riding along with us.” Sam spoke curiously.  
“I just thought about what you said, Sam. She’s probably harmless and down on her luck, so I decided to give her a chance. We’re headed in that direction any way.” Dean finished his burrito, crumpled up the red checked wrapping it was in, and tossed it at Sam.  
“That’s a logical response, Dean, but that’s what worries me; you’re hardly logical.” Sam stuffed the trash into the front of his bag.  
Dean made a ‘pfffft’ sound and accelerated, making the car lurch a little and Laurel let out an exasperated sigh as she gripped the leather seat.

 

Dean drove till about noon before he began to run out of energy. He hadn’t slept much the night before, and was starting to fall asleep at the wheel. Sam made him pull over into a small gas station so they could switch and get some refreshment.  
Laurel had cat napped in the back seat for those few hours and when the car parked and the engine cut off she was jarred awake.  
“Where are we?” She slurred her speech slightly, still trying to regain full consciousness from her fitful sleep.  
“Just over the Maryland border. Dean’s nodding off at the wheel, so I figured we needed a pit stop and a seat switch.” Sam opened the door for Laurel and helped her out so she didn’t stumble.  
Sam went over to the pump that they parked at and began to pump gas, as Laurel woke herself up and headed towards the convenient store. Dean was exiting as she entered.  
“Hey, sleep well?” Dean asked, rubbing his eyes.  
Laurel grunted in response, running her fingers through her tousled curls.  
“I’m going to go lay down in the backseat. You can sit shotgun with Sam.” He grinned and wandered off back towards the car. 

Laurel went to the restroom, bought herself a new pack of cigarettes and vitamin water, and headed back to the Impala.  
Sam had already finished pumping gas and paid, and Dean was snoring lightly, sprawled out in the back seat.  
“You get shotgun.” Sam smiled, hopping into the driver’s seat, “I get to drive.” He patted the seat next to him, inviting her to climb in the Impala so they could get back on the road. With Sam driving, they were going to cut it a little close.

 

“So, you’re from Salem?” Sam really hadn’t spoken much the first forty five minutes after they left the gas station. Laurel could tell he was trying to think of conversation, but he seemed nervous.  
“Yeah, I grew up there mostly, but my dad and I traveled around a lot.” She sighed quietly, at the memory of her father.  
“What did your mother do while you two traveled?” Sam relaxed in his seat, slacking one hand from the wheel and resting it on the open window.  
“My mother passed when I was very young.” Laurel glanced at Sam briefly and looked out the window. The breeze from the warming spring day blew her hair every which way and Sam noticed by her posture that this was a tense subject so he quickly changed it.  
“Dean has seemed to warm up to you a bit.” Sam tried not to miss a beat amidst the brief seconds after his last question.  
Laurel glanced back at the sleeping Dean sprawled out in the back seat. He had shifted since they left the convenience store, taken his jacket off, and balled it up under his head like a pillow. He seemed peaceful, his mouth slightly agape as he snored quietly. This scene made Laurel smile, and she tried to hide her amusement as she spoke to Sam.  
“I don’t know how much of it is him warming up, Sam, as opposed to him just not wanting to argue with you. You’re his little brother; he loves you.”  
Sam smiled half heartedly and spoke, “Dean can be hard to get along with sometimes. He’s so stubborn and set in his ways, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”  
Laurel rolled her eyes at that statement and nodded.  
“Either way, I’m glad that you rode along with us. Usually it’s just Dean and I; it’s nice having non-related company once in a while.” He turned and smiled impishly at Laurel.  
‘Adorable.’ She thought and smiled back. 

 

Sam and Laurel chatted about little things for the next few hours of the trip. They were just about an hour outside of Salem when the soft snoring in the back seat turned into a grunt, and the grunt into yawn and then there was a “Hey, Sammy. Pull over, my turn to drive.”  
Dean was awake and sitting up in the back seat. His short hair was sticking up in every which way, and his eyes were bleary with sleep. He must have slept hard.  
“Morning, sleepy head.” Sam reached into the back seat attempting to poke Dean somewhere in his chest. Instead he got him right in the cheek, and Dean fidgeted, roaring back at Sam.  
“That’s it; I’m not being the back seat bitch any more, pull over.”  
Laurel glared at him with this statement, but he ignored it and attempted to smooth out his dark hair.  
Sam pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway, trying to stifle a laugh as he unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out of the car. As Dean was exiting the back seat Sam stuck his head in the driver side window and whispered, “I’ll be the back seat bitch, don’t worry about it.” He winked at Laurel and she smiled, mouthing ‘thank you’.  
When Dean had taken his position as captain of the Impala, Laurel had become navigator instead of Sam.  
“So, where are we exactly?” Dean scratched his head, gunning the Impala down the mostly empty highway.  
“About forty-five minutes from Salem. I can give you directions from here. The auto body shop is about twenty minutes outside of Salem.”  
Laurel rifled through her purse, looking for her iPod. When she found it, she popped one ear bud in her ear and left the other one dangling at her waist so she could hear Dean and give him directions. He didn’t seem like he was fully awake yet, so leaving him to his own devices was out of the question.

* * *

 

“Turn right here. The shop will be on your left.” Laurel directed as they came close to the city.  
Dean took a sharp right onto a narrow road. To his left he could see a sign that read ‘Salem Classic Cars and Auto Repair’. He turned into the small parking lot and parked in front of the open door of the shop.  
“I’ll be right back. Wait for me? I want to make sure everything is in order before you leave. I don’t want to be stranded.” Laurel turned to Dean with slightly pleading eyes.  
Dean nodded and Laurel slipped out the door and made her way into the shop. A few minutes later she appeared back in the doorway, holding a set of keys with a triumphant grin on her face. She walked over to the driver’s side of the Impala and leaned through the window to speak to Dean.  
“You let me admire your baby, now I want to show you mine.” She cocked her head to the side waiting for a response. Dean turned to the back seat for Sam’s approval and he nodded, reassuring Dean that it was ok.

“She’s just around the corner.” Laurel’s step was quick and light, and Dean had a hard time keeping up with her. She turned a corner and stopped abruptly.  
“Here she is; my baby.”  
Dean and Laurel stood in front of a pristine condition, black ’54 Chevy Bel air.  
“Jesus Christ,” Dean muttered, walking a little closer to the classic.  
“You like her, Dean?” Laurel asked, watching Dean eye the car, jaw slightly ajar.  
“She’s…she’s, amazing.” Dean stuttered, hovering his hand over the shiny paint on the hood.  
“You can touch her. She’s been through hell and back, I’m sure your hand won’t offend her much.” Laurel ran her fingers over the door handle and across the door itself as Dean examined the front end.  
“You know, we almost didn’t end up with such a beauty of a car.” Laurel made light conversation as Dean immersed himself in the classic.  
“Why is that?” Dean had popped the hood of the car and was studying the inside.  
“Dad wanted a VW Van; Mom had to talk him out of it.” She laughed, leaning against the door.  
Dean jerked at her response, banging his head rather loudly on the inside of the hood.  
‘Too perfect.’ He thought, shaking his head to cast off the stars he was seeing.  
Laurel came around to the front of the car.  
“You alright? Was it something I said?” Laurel reached up and placed her small, cool hand on Dean’s forehead; it was starting to swell a little.  
Dean just shook his head and backed away from Laurel, shutting the hood.  
“I gotta go. You know, Sam and I have family business; we’re going to be late for dinner.” Dean checked his watch, and began to back away from the car and the beautiful girl.  
“Thanks a lot, Dean. You really were a life saver.” She giggled softly biting her lower lip. “Maybe we’ll see each other again one day.”  
Dean’s stomach jerked and knotted as he raised his hand to say goodbye. He could barely choke out the words “Sure, no problem.”

 

* * *

“So, how was it?” Sam asked as Dean opened the driver’s side door and climbed into the Impala.  
“Beautiful.” Dean responded, closing the door and absent mindedly checking his mirrors  
and buckling himself in.  
“The girl or the car?” Sam joked back, nudging his brother’s shoulder.  
“The car, Sammy.” Dean made a pfft sound rather angrily, “Let’s just get to Salem; we have business to attend to.”  
Dean began backing out of the parking lot as Laurel sped by behind him. She smiled and waved, turning right out of the lot, in the opposite direction of Salem.  
Dean sighed, half-heartedly waving back, and pulled out himself, making a left towards the city. They were parting ways and Dean’s heart wasn’t so sure how he felt about that. He tried to shake her face from his memory and focus on the task at hand: his life was that of a hunter and there was no time for frivolous feelings.

 

* * *

“The Hawthorne Hotel; this is kind of nice. Different from the usual seedy motels we stay in.” Sam was reading a brochure for the historic hotel as Dean pulled up front to park.  
“Yeah, well, we are in the heart of Salem; there isn’t much in the way of cheap hotels here. This place is a freakin’ tourist attraction.” Dean had already hopped out of the car, and was grabbing his bag from the backseat.  
“Let’s get ourselves checked in, Sammy, and start doing more research on this coven disappearance thing. We didn’t exactly have time to do it today, and we are running behind. I don’t want to have to deal with one witch longer than I have to, let alone a whole coven”  
Sam sighed, and trailed Dean inside the hotel. Dean’s lack of respect for the situation was starting to get on his nerves and his brother’s behavior had been less than normal for him since their meeting of Laurel. Sam was starting to wonder himself if there was more to this girl than they could see with their own two eyes.

 

“Have you noticed that FBI Agents have become a running thing with us?” Sam questioned Dean as he straightened his tie. The two were walking down a busy sidewalk in the heart of Salem. People were carrying on light conversation on the streets and in front of shops, the wind was blowing lightly, and the day had moved into twilight; casting purples and pinks into the lightly clouded sky.  
“It seems necessary to me, Sammy. It appears that everything we do now is high profile.” Dean tried loosening his collar; he wasn’t a big fan of this monkey suit that he wore so often now.  
“Sure, high profile.” Sam shrugged and slowed his steps so that Dean could catch up with him.  
“This looks like the shop. ‘The Faery Moon’, very kitschy if you ask me.” Dean rolled his eyes, and came to stand in front of the shop.  
“It’s a metaphysical shop, Dean, and we’re in Salem. The name sells, I’m sure. Anyway, this Lilianna woman is really the only covener that is reachable. Most, from what I’ve gathered, live further outside the city and aren’t very willing to talk about the situation.”  
Dean shrugged, “Let’s do this, then.” And he walked ahead of Sam and into the shop.

The shop was filled with the smoky aroma of sandalwood and dragon’s blood burning on a hot coal, and candles were placed strategically throughout the shop. To the right were shelves and hutches full of statuary, cauldrons, and decorative knick knacks; to the left was row upon row of various herbs and resins, candles, and incense of every kind. The middle of the room held the front desk that was placed in front of a rather elaborate staircase for such a shop, which disappeared into a second level.  
Behind the counter stood a young woman, with straw blonde hair and chestnut colored eyes. She was dressed in long skirts and had bangles up to her elbows. She clanked softly every time she turned to help a customer or take orders for specialty items.  
She caught sight of the brothers as they came closer to the desk.  
“Welcome to The Faery Moon, is there anything I can help you with?” The woman had a very light voice that sounded like bells tinkling.  
“Actually, we are looking for someone. I’m agent Osborne, this is agent Dio.” Dean spoke pointing to himself then Sam, as they flashed their FBI badges.  
Sam tried not to roll his eyes at their fake names; sometimes Dean got a little ridiculous with them.  
“Looking for whom?” The blonde questioned, writing something down on a notepad.  
“Lilianna Corbin.” Sam stepped forward and took the reins. He didn’t want Dean to go crazy with anything.  
“Madame Lilianna isn’t in right now; can I give her a message?” The woman responded so casually, as if she knew that the brother’s weren’t actually FBI.  
“Actually, yes. It is very urgent that we speak to her. It is in regards to the disappearances in the Salem Coven.” Sam spoke professionally, as usual. “And, um, what was your name, ma’am?”  
“It’s Tristan, and are you talking about The Coven of Inanna? Of course…but she has already spoken with the police about it; and they didn’t seem to take her seriously. Why is the FBI so interested?”  
“Well, we… uh.” Sam started to stutter when Dean broke in.  
“That’s confidential, miss. We need to speak to Miss Corbin personally.” Dean shot one brow up at the woman and she smirked back in response.  
“Fine, leave your number with me and I will make sure to pass the message along.” Tristan shoved her small note pad in Dean’s direction.  
Dean scribbled his number down and underlined his “agent” name above it.  
“Please make sure she gives us a call, miss. It is of the utmost importance that we speak with her.”  
Dean shot Tristan his ‘suave’ grin, “And, um, what’s a good place to get a bite to eat around here?”  
Tristan took the notepad back from Dean and glanced at the name and number, “Strega Lounge is great. It’s off of Lafayette Street; you can’t miss it.” She turned back to the paperwork she was doing.  
Sam thanked her gingerly and tugged Dean in his direction as he headed for the door.  
“Food sounds good, Sammy, but I’m not so sure how I feel about the name of this restaurant.” Dean muttered as they exited the shop.  
“You’ll be fine, Dean. I’ll hold your hand if you like.” Sam smirked as Dean responded to his joke with a quick punch to the shoulder.  
“You gonna buy me dinner too?” Dean retorted as they headed out to put food in their stomachs.

 

“Tristan? Tris…? Hey!” Laurel tried to quietly get the woman behind the counters’ attention. She was trying to draw as little notice to herself as possible.  
Tristan spun around at the sound and exclaimed, “Laurel! Where did you come from?”  
“Wherever the road takes me.” Laurel grinned and held out her arms as Tristan came from behind the counter and hugged her tightly.  
“We missed you.” She gushed laying her head on top of Laurel’s, “Lilianna has been worried sick about you!”  
“I know, and I’m so sorry. I would have called, but you know how business goes.” Laurel shrugged, and reached up to pat Tristan’s back.  
“You and your secret business, Laurel. Anyway, let me ring Lilianna and let her know you’re here; she’s just upstairs.” Tristan let go of her embrace with Laurel and stepped back behind the counter, ringing a bell that was hung up by the stairs.  
A few minutes later a woman appeared at the top of the stairs. She was dressed in long skirts like Tristan, a billowy blouse, and sandals. Her hair was raven black and sleekly cut into an asymmetrical bob. Her cat like blue eyes lit up at the sight of Laurel and she rushed down the stairs to her, scooping her up in her arms as soon as she hit the bottom step.  
“My baby sister! Where the hell have you been?” Lilianna’s voice went from sweet and loving to harsh and irritated in one sentence.  
Lilianna yanked at Laurel’s hair as she responded, “ Business, Lily; you know how it goes.” She winced as Lilianna yanked harder.  
“Business, Laur? You couldn’t have called? Or written? I was worried sick about you!” Lilianna scolded, pulling her ‘sister’ into a tight hug.  
“I’m sorry. You know I am. But the family business isn’t to be talked about, Lily.” Laurel apologized, furrowing her brow.  
“But aren’t I family, Laur? We’ve known each other for over fifteen years.” Tears started to well up in Lilianna’s eyes.  
“You are and you know that. I love you; but you know I can’t get you involved in this.” Laurel stared her sister straight in the eyes.  
“I know, ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’, so I shouldn’t have asked.” Lilianna softened up a good bit now, as she twirled a lock of Laurel’s hair around her finger.  
“Now that that’s out of the way; why don’t we get something to eat? I’m sure you’re starving; you never do eat well while on the road.” Lilianna stepped back from Laurel and examined her. She was much thinner than she had been six months before.  
“Food does sound good.” Laurel gripped her stomach in protest; she couldn’t remember the last time she had an actual meal.  
“Let’s go to Strega. It’s been a while and we can catch up.” Lilianna smiled and led her sister to the front of the shop, “Keep an eye on the place, Tris. We’ll be back in a bit.”  
Tristan nodded at the two as they stepped outside into the darkening twilight.

 

* * *

 

“It’s kind of nice here.” Sam’s mind wandered as they sat in the corner of the restaurant. They each had ordered a few beers and some food and were just trying to relax.  
“Nice or not Sammy, It gives me the heeby jeebies. This place is crawling with witches and I don’t know who is just an average Joe and who is some stark raving crazy person.” Dean chugged his beer and slammed the bottle down on the table. He looked like he was starting to sweat.  
“Dean, be a little more open minded and calm the hell down.” Sam sipped his beer and let his eyes wander around the restaurant. Dean was right about one thing though: for all they knew, whatever was causing the disappearances in town could be sitting two tables down from them.

 

* * *

 

“So, Laur, why did you decide to come back now?” Lilianna questioned, sipping on a glass of wine.  
“I missed everyone. I just wanted to come home for a while.” Laurel responded, taking a long gulp of her beer.  
“Of course; you missed us…but you always have a motive for doing things. Why did you really come back?” Lilianna raised one eyebrow, swirling her glass of wine with her right hand.  
“I just…” Laurel sighed shifting her eyes left to right, “Just what I said, Lily. Excuse me for a second. I have to go to the bathroom.” Laurel excused herself from the table and made her way back to the restroom.  
Lilianna sighed at the evasiveness of her sister, and resumed sipping her wine. 

 

“Lilianna! Madame Lilianna!” A high voice rang through the murmur of the evening crowd inside the restaurant.  
Dean looked up from his steak sandwich and his ears perked at the sound of her name.  
“Hey, did you hear that, Sammy? That Lilianna woman is here.” Dean nudged his brother who was leaned back in his chair, eyes closed and hands clasped over his stomach.  
“What? Where?“ Sam questioned, looking around the restaurant.  
Dean pointed to the opposite corner of the room to a woman alone at a table sipping a glass of wine. Another woman had just left her side and was heading back to the bar; she must have been the one calling Lilianna’s name loud enough for Dean to hear.  
“Let’s go talk to her now.” Dean stood up from his chair and made his way across the room.  
“I can never get a damn break.” Sam mumbled as he followed his brother.

“Excuse me, are you Lilianna Corbin?” Dean came to stand in front of Lilianna.  
She hardly looked taken aback as she responded, “Why yes I am. And you must be?” She questioned.  
“I’m agent Osborne, this is my partner, agent Dio. We’re from the FBI.” Dean furrowed his brow as he spoke, trying to look important.  
“You’re wanting to talk about the Coven disappearances, aren’t you? Tristan mentioned to me that you stopped by. Now really isn’t the time to talk, boys. Could you possibly meet me around nine back at the shop. I will have plenty of time then to speak with you.” Lilianna didn’t even give Dean a time to respond.  
“I, uh, I understand. You don’t want to talk here. Nine should be fine.” Dean retorted, nodding at Lilianna in response. She nodded back as Dean gripped Sam’s arm and whispered, ‘Let’s go’. They backed away from her table, back to their own, paid and then headed back to the hotel. Dean couldn’t stand wearing his FBI getup any more, and he didn’t want to be in the proximity of a witch longer than he had to.

 

* * *

 

“The place looks beautiful, Lily.” Laurel gushed, traipsing around Lilianna’s upstairs apartment that she had just recently renovated.  
“Thank you, love. It’s my haven. Now, we need to talk.” Lilianna sat down on a very green, very plush settee and patted it with her slender hand.  
Laurel hung her head and came and sat down by her sister; there was no escaping this discussion, she was going to have to tell her the true reasons she came back.  
“I know about the disappearances, Lilianna. I caught wind of it; don’t ask me how. I did come back here because I missed everyone, mostly you, but I really came back because I feared that you were one of the ones lost.” Laurel lowered her voice and talked rather sternly.  
“I figured, hunny. You always know when trouble is abound. What have you heard?” Lilianna questioned, leaning back against the wall.  
“I know that there have been several coveners that have gone missing; all that is left are their coven pendants.” Laurel reached under the collar of her shirt and extracted a long braided cord. At the end dangled an ornate pentacle, wrapped in pewter vines, the right side surrounded by a crescent moon made of labradorite.  
“The police won’t help us, Laur! They think we are just a bunch of heathens, doing whatever we want. They told me that they probably wandered off together and will turn up eventually. We still aren’t taken seriously!” Lilianna stood up from the settee, flailing her arms in distress.  
“Calm down, Lili. You know me; I will get to the bottom of this.” Laurel gritted her teeth at the thought of the people in Salem who still had their minds set in the old ways of fear.  
“I know you will, love, you always do. Anyway,” Lilianna sighed, trying to compose herself, “I have a meeting here in a minute and need to get back downstairs. Make yourself at home; there is hot tea on the stove.” Lilianna leaned down and kissed her sister sweetly on the cheek then hurried out the door and back down to the shop.  
After her exit tears began to well in Laurel’s eyes, tears of anger, and she slumped back onto the settee. What was happening to her family?

 

“Those FBI boys are back in the Tarot room, waiting for you, Lilianna” Tristan spoke out of the side of her mouth as she wiped down the counters at the front desk.  
“At least they are punctual.” Lilianna responded, gliding past Tristan and through a set of velvet curtains into the back rooms.

“Mr. Osborne, Mr. Dio.” Lilianna acknowledged the two men as she entered the room and sat down at the small reading table set in front of them.  
The boys nodded in recognition, and Sam responded, “Miss Corbin. We really are sorry to have to bother you with this, but it’s protocol and we need to follow up on things.”  
“Understandable, Agent Dio, but the thing that I don’t understand is why our own town police aren’t even the slightest bit concerned, yet the FBI are getting involved.” She pulled out a deck of Tarot cards as she spoke casually with the men sitting before her.  
“We are, uh, concerned that there are cult activities going on; whether or not the local police agree with us. This sort of thing can get out of hand if it grows, and we want to be here to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Dean took a hold of the conversation, watching intently as Lilianna shuffled her deck.  
Lilianna looked up to meet Dean’s gaze rather sternly, “Are you implying that our craft is cultic?” She hissed, rather angrily.  
“No, no ma’am. Not at all. He wasn’t implying that. What he was trying to say is that a lot of times when there is a large religious ‘family’, very unsavory cult activities can be going on in the background and not many may know. It’s just a good opportunity, for lack of a better word, for someone of that cultic mindset to slip in and take some people over.” Sam smiled slightly at Lilianna, and she returned the grin.  
“That’s understandable; should I start from the beginning?” Lilianna started to lay out cards in a past, present, and future spread.  
The boys nodded and she began.  
“About six months ago I thought we had our first disappearance. Come to find out I was wrong about that one,” She ran her fingers over the past card: the tower inverted.  
“But the first real disappearance happened about three months ago. One of our coveners, a woman named Cheyenne, was leaving a big Ostara ritual we had and never made it home. The next day a few of us found her coven pendant on the sidewalk just outside the shop.” She pulled her own pendant up from her blouse to show the brothers.  
“It was tarnished and burnt, like it had been through the hottest of fires, but there was no sign of her at all.”  
“A few weeks later one of our male members, Aaron, was at Strega with a few of his friends. He excused himself to go to the bathroom and never came back. His group began to get worried and when they went looking for him they found his pendant on the sink in the restroom, tarnished and burnt, just like Cheyenne’s had been.” She flipped over the present card: the high priestess.  
“In total we’ve had over a dozen disappearances, all in a similar fashion: people leave the comfort and safety of their family and never show back up. The pendants are all found the same way.” She flipped over the last card, the future: the devil.  
Her eyes began to water as she stared at the spread.  
“Is there any significance to the reading you just did while talking to us?” Sam queried, looking down at her spread.  
“I, um, it…no not really. I was thinking of something else.” She jumbled the cards back together and stuffed them back into the full deck.  
She stood from her seat and parted the curtains to the room not saying a word to Sam or Dean. The boys followed her out, and Sam caught sight of her bustling about not quite knowing what to do. Sam stepped forward to speak to her.  
“Miss Corbin,” He spoke, reaching out to touch her arm in an attempt to get her to calm down. She spun around reflexively and stared, wide eyed at Sam.  
“Call me Lilianna, please.” Her eyes softened as she met Sam’s gaze. ‘Such a sweet, honest face.’ She thought to herself.  
“Lilianna. Stay calm; we never meant to upset you. We just needed some information.” She nodded in response.  
Meanwhile Dean had wandered over to a shelf filled with odd bottles, full of this and that. He really didn’t want to know what they held; it made his skin crawl. Sam was now completely enthralled in deep conversation with Lilianna, and Dean was left in his own little hell of witchcraft and jars full of who knows what.

 

* * *

 

Laurel lay sprawled out on the settee staring at the ceiling. Lilianna had been gone for a while and she was starting to get antsy.  
‘Maybe a cigarette will calm my nerves.’ She thought, picking herself up off the couch and making her way to the French doors. She knew Lilianna didn’t allow smoking inside the apartment so she let herself out the back door, down the fire escape, and onto the sidewalk in front of the shop.  
She lit her cigarette and began to take a puff when she heard Lilianna talking inside the shop; the person she was conversing with sounded oddly familiar.  
She didn’t want to spy, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on the voice of the second party in deep conversations with her sister, so she snuck around the corner to the door and peeked in quietly.  
There stood Sam in front of Lilianna, discussing with her what sounded like the details of the disappearances in the coven and Dean stood a few feet in front of him, staring blankly at a jar full of owl feathers.  
Color rushed to her face hotly, as she took in the scene. Both men were dressed in nicely tailored suits and carried themselves very differently from the way they had when she met them.  
She heard Lilianna mention the word ‘FBI’ in regards to the brothers, and she balled up her fists in agitation.  
“Those fucking liars!” She cussed under breath, stepping closer to the door so she could hear better.  
“Don’t worry, Miss Corbin, we are here to help you. We will get to the bottom of this. We always do.” Dean had stepped back into the conversation, and was scribbling something down in a notepad he had pulled from his pocket.

“That’s it,” Laurel flicked her half smoked cigarette into the street and marched right into the shop.

“Laurel! How did you…?” Lilianna began to question when Laurel cut her off.  
“Down the fire escape. I wanted to smoke.” Laurel tried to make her face unreadable as she approached the group.  
Sam’s eyes were wide at the sight of her, but he was silent. Dean, on the other hand, made a very odd sound in the back of his throat, and loosened his tie. It was like he couldn’t breathe.  
“What’s going on, Lili?” Laurel questioned, furrowing her brow as if she had no idea at all.  
“These men are from the FBI, Laur. I should have told you that was who my meeting was with, but I didn’t want to worry you.” Lilianna looked disappointed in herself, but Laurel laid one hand on her sister’s and nodded understandably.  
“Good, you wouldn’t mind me speaking with one of them, would you? I’d like to know what’s going on myself.” Laurel queried, pleading falsely with her eyes.  
“I wouldn’t see why not…” Lilianna looked a little suspicious, but she knew better than to question her sister.  
Laurel turned to Dean and spoke, “Agent…?” She waited for a response.  
“Osborne.” Dean replied in a choked voice.  
“Osborne. Step outside with me won’t you? I don’t want to disturb the conversation your partner is having with my sister.” Laurel reached out and gripped Dean’s arm, pulling him rather roughly out the shop door and down a few yards to the side of the shop.

When they were out of earshot, Laurel grabbed Dean roughly by the collar and slammed him up against the brick wall of the shop.  
“So, how’s the family, Dean? Was dinner good?” Laurel’s condescending tone was frightening.  
Dean looked shocked at first, but quickly discarded that expression and replaced it with one of anger. He spun Laurel around and pinned her against the wall.  
“What are you even doing in Salem? You never said you were headed back here.” Dean was so close to Laurel’s face he could smell a mixture of smoke and strawberries on her breath.  
“This is my home, Dean! So, I decided to head back and visit since I was in the area. You flat out lied to me! You tell me you are having dinner with your family and I see you and Sam dressed up in monkey suits trying to con my sister with this FBI bull shit! She has enough to deal with as it is, already.” Laurel roared in Dean’s face, fighting against the strong grip he had on her.  
“You don’t understand.” Dean replied softly, but sternly. He loosened his grip on Laurel and pulled back slightly.  
“You’re right. I don’t understand why I ever thought I could trust you. For all I know you’re name isn’t even Dean.” Laurel hissed, turning her head to one side so she didn’t have to look into Dean’s intense hazel eyes.  
“It is, Laurel. My name is Dean Winchester, and my brother is Sam. Our business is complicated. I’m not trying to con you or your sister; Sam and I just need information.” Dean’s voice trailed off, as a rather drunk couple stumbled down the sidewalk, giggling and flirting with one another. When they got to Dean and Laurel, they eyed the two suspiciously. Dean smiled his usual smile, and the couple picked up the pace and kept walking down the street.  
“Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?” Dean spoke seriously, completely taking force off of Laurel.  
“I’m not going anywhere ‘private’ with you, Mr. Winchester. I don’t trust you.” Laurel shrunk away slightly from Dean, poised to run if she had to.  
“I’m not going to hurt you, Laurel! Just let me explain things.” Dean reached his hand out to her.  
“Uh uh, I don’t think so. I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know who you are at this point!” Laurel’s pitch raised; she was getting very frustrated.  
“You never really did, Laurel.” Dean reached out and gripped Laurel’s arm, tugging her in the direction of the Impala that was parked about ten yards down the sidewalk.  
Laurel protested and tugged back, but Dean’s grip was too firm on her arm.  
“Let me go!” She whispered harshly, not wanting to draw unwanted attention in their direction.  
Dean directed her to the passenger side of the Impala, popped the door open and pushed her gently inside as Laurel still protested, but feebly at best. Dean climbed inside the driver’s side and turned the keys in the ignition. He slipped his cell phone from his pocket and held down a key to make a call.  
“Sammy, stall Lilianna for a while. Try and get more information on everything. I have Laurel and I’m taking her back to the hotel.” There was a pause in the conversation on their end for Sam’s response, “No, Sam, it’s not like that. I need to try and explain things to her… Yeah, got it. No, I won’t; I promise I’ll be good.” Then Laurel heard a click and the phone call had ended.  
“Buckle up.” Dean nodded in Laurel’s direction as he threw the Impala into drive.  
“No. If I do that means I’m consenting to this kidnap.” Laurel crossed her arms and stared out the window.  
“Suit yourself.” Dean responded, and floored it, sending them speeding down the city street in the direction of the hotel.

 

“I’ve had better, Dean Winchester.” Laurel huffed, climbing out of the front seat of the Impala.  
“Hey, I got completely sideways down that one street. That’s good driving.” Dean’s pride was hurt as he got out on the driver’s side.  
“Yeah, good if this was the Fast and the Furious.” Laurel shrugged and rolled her eyes.  
Dean gave up and reached out for Laurel, “Come on; our room is this way.”  
“Don’t touch me.” She hissed, shrinking back from his touch and wrapping her arms around herself. Dean couldn’t read if she was angry, hurt, scared, or confused. Or maybe it was a disastrous mixture of all four.

When they got in the room Dean pulled a chair out from under the so called dining table and slid it in Laurel’s direction. He then made his way over to the mini fridge and pulled out a beer, popped the cap, and plopped down on the end of his bed.  
“You’re not a very good host, Dean. You should always offer a lady a drink.” Laurel raised her brows and cocked her head to the side. That was the Laurel Dean had met.  
“My apologies, ma’am. What will it be?” A smile crept across Dean’s face as he leaned over and pulled the door open to the mini fridge.  
“A beer sounds good.” Dean tossed one in her direction and she caught it lightly, swiftly.  
‘No fumble; impressive.’ Dean though as he set his beer down on the night stand and loosened his tie, pulling the loop over his head and tossing it across the room. Next came the jacket, which landed on the other bed, then the shoes which cracked against the far wall. Dean winced at the sound as he hopped around on one foot, trying to pull his sock off.  
“I feel like I should be applauding.” Laurel giggled. Dean was glad that this comical display was making her relax a little, and the sound of her squeal as his sock hit her in the face made him even smile.  
Still chuckling silently to himself, Dean began to unbutton his crisp white shirt. He had no qualms about changing in front of anyone; no shame. But this sight caught Laurel’s eye and she couldn’t help but blush.  
Laurel noticed the smooth contours of his chest, the ridges in his stomach, the broad build and narrow waist.  
Then she caught sight of the tattoo above his heart; it was a sun ray pentacle. She tried not to choke on her beer, as her blushing deepened and she turned her head so as not to be noticed.  
She figured after the shirt would come the pants, so she kept her eyes averted until he spoke.  
“You can look now; I’m decent.” Dean’s voice broke through the fog in Laurel’s head and she turned to see him in his usual jeans and black shirt. He had sat back down on the bed and tilted his head back as far as it would allow, finishing the last of his first beer. He cracked another and spoke.  
“Now that that’s out of the way, I need to talk to you.” He tried to make eye contact with Laurel but she averted her gaze, tilting the beer back and taking a long swig. She glanced at him shortly as if telling him to go on with his explanation that would more than likely fall on deaf ears.  
“My name is Dean Winchester. I was born January 24th 1979 in Lawrence, Kansas and I have a brother named Sam. I’m 6’1 with hazel eyes. My social security number is 252…” Dean took another sip of his beer.  
Laurel studied him, wondering if he was telling her the truth.  
“Let me see your license then.” Laurel spoke abruptly, looping her feet around the legs of the chair and leaning forward.  
Dean sighed, rifled through his wallet, and tossed a very worn card in her direction. She caught it easily and read the information. Everything was there (besides who his brother was), but there was one thing about it.  
“It’s expired.” She snorted, tossing it back to Dean like a Frisbee.  
“I know; I’ve been meaning to renew it.” He shoved it back in his wallet and went on.  
“Do you at least trust me a little bit now?” Dean looked up at Laurel over his beer, pleadingly.  
“Maybe. I may need more convincing.” Laurel leaned back in her chair, waiting for Dean to go on.  
Dean raised his eyebrows in consideration. “Ok, do you believe in spirits, demons, other worldly creatures?”  
“Do I what?” Laurel leaned in closer to Dean, waiting for some sort of explanation.  
“You know, the supernatural?” Dean was so casual about the conversation.  
“Like, uh fairies and ghosts?” Laurel didn’t want to let on how extensive her knowledge was of this subject, so she let Dean lead on.  
“Not exactly, but close. I would’ve guessed you’d know something considering your sister is a ‘witch’.” Dean made a disgusted face and shuddered slightly.  
“You don’t like witches, Dean?” Laurel’s interest was piqued at his response to the word witch.  
“Uh, I really don’t want to talk about that.” Dean put his fingers on his temples as if trying to block out some bad memory.  
“Laurel, the supernatural is real. Evil spirits, demons from hell, vampires, werewolves, all of that is real. Sammy and I try to track those sort of things down to keep the world safer, I suppose. We’re called hunters…” Dean trailed off at the sight of Laurel’s face. She looked horrified and confused all at the same time.  
Laurel’s brain was spinning at a hundred miles a minute. She felt like she was going to choke on the words that Dean had just spoken. She then started to laugh hysterically and stood from her chair, pacing between it and the door.  
“ I gotta go.” She blurted, looking up to stare wide-eyed at Dean for a moment. Her oceanic eyes were foggy, as if they had forgotten who he was.  
“Laurel, calm down. I wasn’t trying to freak you out or anything. I was just trying to explain to you why Sam and I are here.” He rose from his chair and walked over to her, gripping her upper arms to steady her, she had begun to look like she was going to faint.  
Her first reaction to this muted affection was to shrink away, her eyes fixed on the floor now. Dean didn’t let this deter him, and he kept a firm grip on her. He could tell she was thinking intently on what her next move would be: run or give him a chance.  
“We got wind of the disappearances here in the coven, and we suspect that it may be angry ancestral spirits or demonic activity. We’re just trying to help.” Dean hooked his finger under Laurel’s chin and tilted her head up so he could look at her better.  
Her eyes flickered with recognition of his words. It was almost as if she understood, but she stayed clammed up.  
“Laurel, what is it? I know this sort of thing is really hard to swallow. Hell, most people just yell at me to get the hell away from them or they’ll call the cops. I don’t expect you to accept or even beli--.” Laurel raised her hand up to Dean’s mouth.  
He furrowed his brow at this response. This girl got more and more confusing by the moment.  
“I’m a liar, Dean.” She whispered, pulling away gently from Dean’s grip and going to position herself on the edge of the bed.  
Dean turned to look at her, “What? What are you talking about?” He turned and came over to stand in front of her.  
“I’m a godamned liar, Dean. I used you and Sam.” Laurel stared at the floor, wondering how Dean would respond.  
His response was to back up into the chair that had once been her sitting spot, and drag it all the way up to about a foot from Laurel. His face was like stone, it showed almost no emotion.  
“Go ahead.” He prodded her, pulling a knife out of his boot and picking his nails with it.  
“I was desperate. The part about me getting my car back from the shop was all truth, but more or less it was to get me back here. It was an emergency. I didn’t come back here just to visit Lilianna; I came back here for the hunt.”  
Dean’s hand slipped and he jabbed the knife up under his fingernail too hard and began to bleed. He yelped and quickly stuck his finger in his mouth to stop the bleeding. He just stared at her now, speechless.  
“I’m a hunter, Dean. That whole story about my ex getting his bike back was a lie. I stole it and I had to get out of town so no one got suspicious. I needed to get back here as quickly as possible to help Lilianna. She doesn’t know about who I am, Dean. She’s my sister, just like Sam is your brother; blood or not.”  
Dean’s eyes were glazed over with this revelation.  
“As you said, Dean, you can’t just tell anyone that you hunt; they’d think we were lunatics. I stole that bike back in South Carolina while on a hunt for some Confederate soldier haunting in Charleston and I got wind only a state up that the cops were looking for it, so I had to dump it and find another way up here.”  
“You’re a hunter?” Dean stuttered, shoving the chair back and standing over Laurel. She shrunk back, waiting for Dean to hit her.  
“Yes, I’m not lying about this, I swear to you.” She scooted back further on the bed.  
Dean’s mind was blown and he too began to pace, as Laurel once had.  
“I heard about the disappearances only a few days ago and I had to get back here as soon as possible. She’s my family and I can’t let anything happen to her, you must understand that.” Laurel got up from the bed and came over to Dean.  
She took a chance in placing her hand on his shoulder to calm him, but it was a bad idea. Dean quickly removed her hand with one swift move and twisted it behind her back. Caught off guard, Laurel grunted in shock, as Dean shoved her face down on the bed and pinned her in place.  
Dean got down low over top of her and whispered roughly in her ear.  
“I knew there was something about you that I didn’t like. I knew that you weren’t telling Sam and I the truth, but he kept telling me to trust you; that you were just some ‘poor girl down on her luck’, and all the while I knew that there was something wrong about you. How do I know that you are a hunter? How do I even know that your name is Laurel and you’re not just some pawn in this whole disappearance thing? For all I know you could be some demon.” Dean had now put pressure on the middle of Laurel’s back with his knee, and he heard the bones in her spine cracking. She moaned in response to this move, but didn’t try to struggle.  
“Cut me with a silver knife, Dean; make me drink holy water even. I promise you, I’m human.” Laurel huffed under the pressure of Dean’s hulking frame.  
With that, Dean jumped up off her, yanked her up, spun her around, and pulled his knife out again. It was made of pure silver, from the tip to the hilt.  
He held Laurel’s arm out and hovered the knife over it, looking back at her for some sort of panicked, fear stricken reaction.  
But her eyes were just wide and waiting; waiting for the blade to be drug across her skin as proof that she wasn’t anything but human.  
Dean moved the knife with a quick movement, and split the skin on Laurel’s forearm. She drew in a short ragged breath and jerked lightly, as the blood began to flow freely from her arm and drip down onto the carpeted floor. It was a very human reaction.  
“You want to give me a shot of holy water now, to calm my nerves.” Laurel glanced at her arm and then to Dean. The blood was beginning to flow faster.  
It then sank in for Dean. Maybe she actually was a hunter, or human at the very least.  
“Hold your arm above your head.” Dean instructed, entering the bathroom and then exiting with a slate grey hand towel. Laurel just stood there with her arm above her head, looking like she was trying to calmly hail a taxi instead of prevent herself from passing out.  
“Here.” Dean took a hold of her arm and wrapped it tightly in the towel, then sat her down on the bed again.  
“I told you, Dean. I am human, I am a hunter. I lied to you before, but so did you. You cleared up your lies and now I’m clearing up mine.” She gingerly touched her wrapped arm.  
Dean sighed, giving in.“So, what do you know about this hunt?”  
.

* * *  
“Hey , Sammy. How’s the interrogation going with Lilianna? Oh, that well, huh? Don’t get yourself too involved; we don’t have time for that. We need to get to the bottom of this. Yeah, I have Laurel, she’s asleep next to me in the front seat. I’ve had quite the fucking night with her. I’ll explain it to you when I pick you up. Uh huh, see you in a bit.” Dean hung up his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He was sitting idle in the parking lot of Strega, Laurel passed out in the seat next to him.  
After she had given him as much information as she could, which wasn’t much more than he had gotten from Lilianna, they decided to go get a few drinks.  
Laurel barely spoke the whole time they sat in the lounge. She excused herself after forty five minutes, saying she was getting a little dizzy from the cut on her arm and the fact that she had drank four beers, not counting the one she had back at the hotel.  
Dean had begun to get worried about her when she hadn’t come back to the table and he went looking for her, finding her sound asleep in the passenger seat of the Impala, curled up with her bad arm under her head.  
He decided that it was a good time to get her back to the shop and pick up Sam; they had a long day of hunting ahead of them in the morning.

 

When they arrived back at the Faery Moon, Sam was waiting out front, jacket off, shirt unbuttoned, and tie dangling from his neck.  
Dean pulled up to the sidewalk and rolled the window down, “Did you get a little too comfortable while I was gone?” Dean spoke softly over Laurel.  
“It’s not like that, Dean. You know these get uncomfortable after a while.” Sam yanked the tie off and shoved it messily into his front pocket.  
“Sure it does.” Dean looked down at his plain clothes self.  
He threw the car into park, got out, and made his way over to the passenger side.  
“What happened to her arm, Dean?” Sam queried, noticing the fresh gauze that was wound around Laurel’s right arm.  
“She told me to cut her and I did.” Dean shrugged, opening the door and scooping up Laurel in his arms.  
“She wha…? You know I don’t really even want to know. “Sam threw his hands up in defeat and shook his head.  
“Uh, yes you do, Sammy. You absolutely do.” Dean spoke to his brother matter-of-factly.

 

Dean carried Laurel quietly up the back stairs and to the apartment door. He knocked and Lilianna, who was surprisingly still up, let him in.  
“Oh my God, is she ok?” Lilianna had noticed Laurel’s arms, and frantically looked back and forth between Dean and her sister.  
“She’s fine. We went down to the bar, she had had a few too many. Wanted to fight me, swung and hit a beer mug. Cut her up but she’s fine. I had her sleep it off.” Dean’s fragmented response was surprisingly convincing and Lilianna ate up every word of it.  
She stroked her sister’s hair one time and pointed Dean in the direction of Laurel’s room. 

 

Dean laid Laurel down softly in her bed, and began to cover her up with a fleece blanket when she stirred and called out in her sleep.  
“I never should have left. I’m sorry. I never should have abandoned…” Her voice trailed off as she turned over, and cuddled up to her wounded arm.  
Dean understood her guilt all too well and bent down to whisper, “It’s not your fault, Laurel. Don’t let it eat away at you.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face then straightened himself up to leave.  
He nodded to Lilianna who was sitting on the couch sipping some tea, and quietly exited the apartment.

 

* * *

 

Sam sat perched on the end of his bed, untying his shoes and throwing them in the corner.  
“So, how was your evening, Sammy?” Dean questioned as he took his jacket off and lay back on his own bed, shoes still on.  
“Lilianna is a brilliant woman. I think I got us an in. She thinks she can get us an invitation to one of the gatherings for the Coven, undercover of course. Infiltrate the inside and smoke out who ever is doing this.”  
“Laurel’s a hunter, Sammy.” Dean burst Sam’s happy little bubble with the statement he just uttered.  
“Wait? What?” Sam stood from the bed and whirled around to face Dean.  
“I confessed to her what we really are, Sam. I felt like I owed her that after I found out that Lilianna was her sister. So, after I tell her in so many words what we do, she freaks out. I’m thinking that she’s under the impression that you and I are nut jobs so I try to comfort her,” Dean sat up in the bed and reached for the mini fridge, grabbed a beer, and stood to stand near Sam.  
“She then tells me that, and I quote, ‘I’m a godamned liar, Dean. I used you and Sam.’ Then she goes on to tell me that she is a hunter and that bike she had back in NC she stole in South Carolina on the Confederate Soldier hunt that we passed up.” Dean pointed at Sam, and Sam raised his brows in remembrance.  
“Any way, I freaked out on her, pinned her to the bed, was yelling about how I knew I couldn’t trust her and how was I to know that she wasn’t a demon or something…she told me to cut her. So I did.”  
“And what happened then, Dean?” Sam knew the answer, and even though he was wrong about her, he was only partially wrong; she was a hunter.  
“She bled, a lot; I guess I cut her too deep. I got her a towel and wrapped her arm up. Then we went back to Strega and got sloshed.” Dean shrugged and sat down on the edge of his bed near Sam.  
“A hunter? That’s amazing. I never would have expected her of that.” Sam’s response was rather nonchalant; he didn’t seem nearly as surprised as Dean had been.  
He would have been more surprised if she had been a witch instead. He knew Dean would have done more than cut her at that point.  
“Let’s get some sleep, Dean. We have to be up early.” Sam leaned back in his bed and cut the light off on the bedside table.  
Leaving Dean in the dark, he responded with a grunt, and then put himself to bed.  
This hunt would prove to be more than they expected.

 

* * *

Laurel awoke around eight A.M. to slivers of hazy sunlight seeping through the curtains in her bedroom. Her head ached slightly from her drinking the night before, but her arm didn’t seem to bother her much.  
She wandered, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, to the bathroom and flicked the light switch to get a good look at herself in the mirror: she looked like death warmed over.  
Wondering how her arm was doing, she carefully unpeeled the gauzy bandage and peeked underneath.  
All that was left of her gash was a thick pink line, raised and slightly tender, but otherwise not painful.  
“That was quicker than usual.” Laurel spoke aloud, running her fingers over the smooth scar.  
Laurel had this uncanny ability to heal herself. Ever since she was a child any injury that she would incur would heal within a matter of days. As she got older the healing time shortened, and now within less than eight hours her knife wound looked like a long forgotten memory.  
Her father was never able to figure out why her body reacted in this way, and he just took it as one of the many gifts his daughter possessed.  
She shrugged at herself in the mirror, and tossed the gauze in the trash can.  
Laurel decided it was time for her to clean up, so she quickly undressed and hopped in the shower.  
This day was going to prove to be long and complicated.

 

When Laurel was done showering, she readied herself to go down to the shop and explain everything to Lilianna. She threw on a pair of worn jeans, a black tank top, and a light hoodie. She could tell by the sunlight still peeking meekly through the window that the day would be a cool one.  
She re-bandaged her arm, so as not to throw suspicion on herself, grabbed a pack of cigarettes and her phone, and exited the bedroom.  
Lilianna was out in the kitchen, brewing up a hot pot of water for breakfast tea.  
“Morning, love. How’s the arm?” Lilianna grinned at her sister for a moment and went back to what she was doing.  
How would she even know about Laurel’s arm?  
With a confused expression Laurel looked down at her sleeve, under which was her bandaged arm.  
“Agent Osborne brought you home late last night; passed out. Apparently you drank a good bit and got a bit feisty. He said you tried to swing on him and broke a beer mug down at Strega. Proved to make a nasty cut, eh?” Lilianna was joking.  
What a story Dean had fed her! And she ate up every bit of it.  
“My arm’s…fine. I really don’t remember any of that. It must have been a long night.” Laurel made her way over to the stove, where the tea pot now sat screaming and removed it from the heat. She slipped a teabag into her favorite mug, poured in the hot water, and took herself and her cup of tea over to the settee.  
“So, what are we working on today?” Laurel questioned, slowly sipping at her tea.  
“Actually,” Lilianna had come over with her own cup of tea, and sat perched on the arm of a chair, “I’m meeting Sam up at the coven grounds.” She smiled and took another sip.  
Laurel knit her brow at this response.  
“Sam? Agent Dio? You two are on a first name basis now?” Laurel quickly gulped the scalding liquid, getting a bit antsy now. Her throat burned, but she didn’t care; the blistering would heal within minutes.  
“Yeah. We talked for hours last night. Religion, the case, food, politics. He’s really very sweet.” Lilianna gushed, still sipping softly on her tea.  
“I know,” Laurel whispered, rising from her seat to clean her cup at the sink.  
“Any way, Laur, I have to go downstairs and write up a to-do list for Tristan. I’ll see you in a bit.” Lilianna got up and exited the apartment with a slight wave.  
Laurel waved back and heaved a heavy sigh once her sister had exited.  
When she saw Dean she was going to have to give him a gracious pat on the back for the elaborate story he unraveled for Lilianna.

 

Laurel’s toe touched the last step at the bottom of the broad staircase into the shop when her phone rang. She looked around to make sure that there was no one she was going to disturb with her phone call, and looked down at the phone.  
‘Dean Winchester’ burned hotly in blue on the front of her phone. Her eyes widened at the sight of his name on her phone and she answered it quickly out of curiosity.  
“Hello?” Her tone was confused as she answered.  
“Hey. Sleep well?” Dean’s voice was smooth and casual on the other line.  
“If you could call it sleep. I don’t even remember getting home.” She responded, excusing herself to no one, and slipping back into one of the reading rooms.  
“I carried you in. You were out cold. Apparently you’re a light weight.” He laughed throatily, and Laurel could picture that Dean smile of his as he did so.  
“I had five beers, Dean, on an empty stomach, with a good bit of blood loss. I’d say I did fairly well.” Laurel snorted into the receiver.  
“Touché. Anyway, do you have plans today?” He asked, trying to hide the eagerness in his voice.  
“Before we go and make plans, Mr. Winchester, I’d like to know how you got my phone number first.” Laurel made her matter-of-fact face at the phone.  
“Well, while you were passed out in the front seat of my car I took your phone and called mine with it. Then I saved both numbers. Clever, I know.” He was even a smart ass on the phone.  
“That phone was in my front pocket, Dean. That means you had to grope me just to find it. Enjoy yourself?” Laurel was mildly irritated at the nerve of his action, but still amused.  
“That was just a plus.” He joked and Laurel almost choked into the phone.  
“I don’t know how I feel about making plans with a molester.” Laurel’s mocking attitude riled Dean up.  
“Fine. No plans with a molester, but how about with a suave hunter instead?” Dean responded.  
“I thought Sam already had plans with Lilianna?” Laurel couldn’t control her laughter now. He was too easy at times.  
“Ok, ok. You got me. How about plans with just plain old Dean Winchester. You sister will be with us too. Sam said she got us an in on the case. We can go undercover into the coven and scope things out.” Dean paused, waiting for Laurel’s response.  
She choked. She completely choked. There was no way she could do that without being recognized within the coven. Dean couldn’t know what she was. She had a bad feeling about his strong disgust for witches. How would he treat her then? How would he even react? His response to her possibly being a demon or possibly even a mole within the coven led to the healed wound on her forearm and could have possibly led to something worse.  
“I, uh, I’m not so sure about that.” Laurel spoke hoarsely.  
“I thought you wanted to help Lilianna? Witch or not she seems to be an innocent person. Not corrupted by black magic. She needs you.” Dean responded quickly, sweetly.  
“Um, oh…ok. But I’m driving.” Laurel huffed into the receiver; she wanted to get off the phone.  
“Eh, that’s fine. I told Sammy he could use the Impala. I’m trying to be a nice big brother. I’ll ride with Sam over to the shop to pick up your sister and then we can head up that way.” Dean was too agreeing with Laurel, and she knew it was her fault.  
“Sounds good. I have to go, Dean. See you in a bit.” Laurel hit the end button without waiting for a response from Dean. She needed to talk to Lilianna before they all left for the coven grounds.

 

“Lili! Lilianna!” Laurel called out from one of the back rooms. She was so addled she couldn’t even see straight. She couldn’t let Dean know what she really was; a witch. Her foresight was working overtime and all she could see was blood and flashes of red; flashes of anger.  
“What is it, love?” Lilianna came rushing through the curtains to her sister.  
“I, uh, I need to talk to you.” Laurel hadn’t really thought about what she was going to say to her sister. She just knew she had to say it soon before the brothers arrived.  
“I know that you’re leaving with Sam to go investigate the coven,” His name sounded weird to Laurel when using it in context with her sister, “These men obviously know that you’re a witch…but I don’t want them to know that I am.” Laurel finished with a pleading look in her eye.  
Lilianna’s expression was almost unreadable at this statement.  
“Why not?” She asked, furrowing her brow in suspicion.  
“Because, Lily, it’s just one of those things. I know you’re open about who we are with just about any one, but I’m not. There are just some things you don’t talk about with strangers and this is one of them.” Laurel leaned up against the wall and huffed; she figured it was going to be a fight to get Lilianna to understand, or even agree.  
“Always so secretive, Laur.” Lilianna shook her head.  
“But I have my reasons,” Laurel shot back, preparing herself for an argument.  
“So you always tell me. I’ll make a deal with you, Laurel.” Lilianna leaned against one of the tarot tables and crossed her arms; so she was going to bargain secrets now?  
Laurel made a face as if telling her sister to go on and she did.  
“I won’t tell them about your practice if you promise me something.” Lilianna leaned forward and grasped her sister’s hand.  
“Promise me that one day, when…if you can tell me, that you will tell me all the secrets you’ve kept from me for the past fifteen years. All the places you’ve been and all the times you left with your father on special trips that you were never to talk about when you got home.” Lilianna almost had tears in her eyes.  
“When the time comes, Lili, you will be the first person I tell everything. I don’t know when that time will be, however, but I will share every secret I have with you, including all the crazy trips I went on with dad.” She smiled half heartedly at her sister. She didn’t want her to have knowledge of anything that she did. It was too dangerous, but Lilianna did say “if” and that was a big if.  
“Wonderful. I’ll suggest that you and Dean, is it?” Laurel nodded. “Can search the perimeter of the coven grounds. There are secret spots all over out there and that way none of the practitioners will see or recognize you.” Lilianna smiled  
“You read my mind, Lili.” Laurel smiled back and squeezed her sister’s hand agreeably.

“Lilianna?” Sam’s voice rang out through the shop.  
Lilianna’s face blushed at the sound of his handsome voice and she called out, “Back here!”  
“I best be getting my stuff ready.” Laurel grinned sheepishly and excused herself from behind the curtain, almost running into Sam as she did so.  
Sam smiled at her warmly and Laurel shook her head in amusement. Sam had to know by this point that she was a hunter, so she decided that it was ok to mess with him a little.  
Before he had made his way completely through the curtain she grabbed him by the hand and whispered,  
“If you hurt my sister, I’ll kill you.” She poked him playfully in the kidney with the dagger she had hidden in her belt loop.  
Sam’s eyes widened as he spoke, “Yes, ma’am.”  
Laurel laughed and pushed him the rest of the way through the curtain.

 

Laurel hurriedly tossed odds and ends into an old army medic bag she had. She wanted to be prepared for anything that might come her way.  
Lustral water, black salt, several rosaries, over a dozen home-made bullets, and her trusted Colt Dragoon Revolver.  
Laurel’s father used to tell her stories of the famous “Colt” revolver that Samuel Colt had made over a hundred and fifty years ago, the one that could kill demons and any matter of supernatural being with just one bullet. She liked the idea of having such a gun so she decided to make her own.  
Her father had given her the Dragoon when she was twelve, a family heirloom passed down from generation to generation. When her father passed she decided to pay homage to him by creating her own “Colt” revolver. She spent months upon months perfecting it with symbols, blessing it, and creating various types of special bullets to load it with. She finally perfected it right before her excursion out of Salem six months prior.

After she checked and rechecked her bag to make sure she had everything she needed, she strapped on her boots and made her way back down the stairs into the shop. She was sure Dean would be waiting for her.  
As she pounded down the stairs she saw no one in the front room. Just as she began to ask herself where Dean might have been, something hit her.  
An intense wave of dizziness. She swayed on the stairs trying to keep her balance as the dizzy feeling in her head began to cloud her eyes and the room began to swim. She could hear a strange buzzing in her ears.  
What was going on? Laurel tried to steady her footing, but it was almost impossible. The buzzing in her ears grew louder, almost sounding as if someone was trying to whisper something to her.  
“This isn’t funny.” She slurred almost inaudibly, speaking to nothing. Right before the buzzing completely overwhelmed her mind, she thought she could make out Dean coming from the front door. Then it all went black.

 

* * *

“Laurel, come on. Wake up.” A sweet, deep voice with just a hint of a southern accent was calling to her. In the fog that lingered in her mind, Laurel could have sworn she was dreaming. Who was calling out to her? Where was she even?  
“Dad?” She called out slowly, annunciating the syllable.  
“Laurel, wake up. You’re worrying me.” There was the voice again, only this time she recognized it.  
She opened her eyes very slowly. It was as if she was peering through a cloudy film; her vision just wouldn’t center itself.  
There sitting above her was Dean, his brow furrowed in concern. He had her head in his lap, the fingers of one hand tangled in her hair and the other wrapped around her waist.  
She panicked at the closeness of him and began to struggle a bit, not really knowing what to do with herself.  
“Calm down, woman, it’s only me.” Dean barked at her so she would sit still.  
She calmed herself and tried to lie very still; her head was pounding.  
“What happened?” Laurel’s voice sounded like that of a child.  
“I don’t know, you tell me.” Dean pulled her up into a sitting position so she was more comfortable.  
She swayed even in this position, but Dean caught her effortlessly.  
“I just remember coming down the stairs to see if you were waiting on me and then I got dizzy and the room was spinning. I couldn’t see anything and I had this weird buzzing in my ears that almost sounded like whispering.” Laurel closed her eyes and put her hand to her head in an attempt to keep it from spinning in circles.  
“Have you eaten?” Dean queried.  
“Yes, I have. What are you, my mother?” Laurel shot back. Dean’s altered mood from their first meeting was starting to eat at Laurel.  
When she cast her will upon him with the note she had written at the motel, she never expected him to behave so…mushy. He was almost too nice. The only time when he seemed like the real Dean was when he was under the impression that she may have been some demon or a witch. That emotion in him seemed to cancel out her spell.  
She knew it was never smart to cast these types of energies, but it was necessary at the time. Now, it seemed that it was getting out of hand.  
Mr. I Don’t Express My Feelings became Mr. Overly Sensitive. She had to put a stop to this.  
She went to stand up in anger at herself when Dean gripped her wrist,  
“Be careful, I don’t want you fainting on me again” His deep hazel eyes were mixed with confusion and concern.  
That was the last straw. Laurel wasn’t going to have him feeling emotions that weren’t really there anymore.  
She pulled her wrist free from Dean’s grasp and gripped his face in her hands. His expression didn’t change.  
She fixed her gaze, staring deeply into his eyes, trying to find the center of emotion in his being. There was a glimmer somewhere deep inside him and as she caught it, she whispered to him.  
“Forget about me, Dean.”  
“What?” He asked, now looking more confused than ever.  
“Just forget about me.” She could feel her heart fall at the second resounding statement to her counter spell.  
“Maybe you are crazy.” He crooned, pulling his face away from her hands, and cocking his head to the side.  
“Huh?” Laurel grunted, now thoroughly confused herself.  
“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fainted? You’re not making any sense to me.” Dean bent down to scoop up Laurel’s bag as he spoke.  
“Are you going to be ok to drive? I wouldn’t mind taking that classic for a spin.” He smiled slightly and outstretched his arm so that she could take her bag.  
“No, I’m fine. Trust me.” Laurel snatched the bag out of his hand rather harshly.  
Had her spell worked so well that she couldn’t break it? Or did it have no affect at all on Dean and the emotions that were spilling out from him were true? She didn’t want to think about it; it overly complicated everything.  
“Let’s just get out of here. I’m sure Lilianna and Sam are way ahead of us by now. We need to get down to business.” Laurel blurted, fumbling around in her bag for her keys.  
She walked straight out of the shop door, not giving Dean any time to respond.

 

* * *

Dean felt weird sitting in the passenger seat. He was so used to being the driver on these hunting expeditions.  
“So, Lilianna suggested that you and I look around outside the coven grounds and see if we find anything suspicious out there. I really have no idea what we are looking for, but I’m not going to complain. I don’t want to be around a bunch of blood thirsty witches anyway.” Dean chuckled at his own little joke, but Laurel’s stomach sank.  
She was glad that Lilianna had agreed to keep her craft a secret from the brothers. She knew that Sam obviously wouldn’t have an issue with it, but Dean would probably kill her, or beat her to a bloody pulp at the very least.  
“Hey Dean, can you hand me my pack? It’s in my bag.” Laurel asked, pointing towards her bag at Dean’s feet, never taking her eyes off the road.  
Dean leaned over to rifle through the open bag when she heard him mutter under his breath.  
“Son of a bitch.”  
“What?” Laurel, alarmed, turned her head quickly to see what Dean was cussing over.  
Dean sat there, wide eyed, holding her Colt Dragoon revolver. He looked like he was going to have a heart attack.  
“Be careful with her, Dean. She’s an heirloom.” She glanced back at Dean again and he was now running his hand down the barrel and to the grip, feeling each and every mark of the hand-made inscriptions and symbols that adorned the body of the revolver.  
“This is a Colt.” Dean blurted, turning the gun over to examine the other side.  
“Yeah, it is. It belonged to my great great grandfather. He received one of the first fifty that were manufactured by Eli Whitney.” She shared some brief information with Dean as he poured over every inch of the gun.  
“This is a Dragoon, isn’t it?” Dean asked as he gripped the butt of the gun.  
Laurel nodded, “I love that gun so much. My dad gave it to me when I was twelve; I guess it was a coming of age present. It didn’t always have those inscriptions on it though”  
“No?” Dean prodded her to go on with his short question.  
“Dad used to tell me stories about the Colt, the one that Samuel Colt created specifically to kill all manner of Demons and what not. I loved hearing the stories about it, so after my father passed four years ago I decided to pay homage to him by creating my own version of the famed Colt using my Dragoon.” Laurel was proud of herself, but her ego was quickly deflated by Dean’s booming laughter.  
“What’s so freakin’ funny, Dean?” She could feel the blood rush to her face. Was he making fun of her?  
“Calm down, Laurel. I’m not making fun of you. It’s just that Sam and I had the Colt.” Dean laughed a little more, but quieter than before.  
“You what?” Laurel jerked the car to the right and pulled off on the shoulder of the road. Dean could barely keep himself in his seat with her sudden movement of the car.  
“Christ, woman, are you trying to kill us?” Dean’s eyes were wide at the sudden jerking movement of the car.  
“Dean, you had the Colt?” Laurel had twisted around in her seat so she was facing Dean; her expression was lit up.  
“Yeah, we did. I mean, we do. Our good friend, Bobby is keeping it for us.” Dean didn’t understand why she was so excited about it.  
“It really does exist! All those stories about it, everything was true! I even heard a few years back that it was used to kill Azazel; is that true too?” Her eyes lit up as she eagerly questioned Dean.  
Dean cast his eyes downward and grunted, “Yeah.”  
He averted his eyes completely from Laurel.  
“Did I say something wrong?” Her eyes dimmed as she stared, concerned, at Dean.  
“No, it’s nothing. I don’t really want to talk about it.” Dean stared out the window, tapping his finger lightly on the window sill.  
Laurel could see that this subject made him uncomfortable for some reason, so she left the conversation in silence and pulled back on to the long road that led out into the Coven grounds. 

 

* * *

 

Laurel stepped out of the Bel Air that was parked in a dirt turnaround some fifteen miles outside of Salem. The hidden path that wound through the thick wood and into the coven grounds was quiet. Not even the birds were singing their usual song.  
Laurel made her way to the back of the car and popped the trunk to reveal a fully equipped and completely stocked arsenal of the occult.  
There were several shot guns, some sawed off some whole; bottles of lustral and holy water, and at least half a dozen burlap sacks filled with salt.  
On the underside of the trunk hung rosaries, pentacles on braided cord, stars of David on gold chains, and a few other religious symbols. There were also quite a few Witchcraft supplies, but to the non practitioner they looked like nothing more than supernatural backup.  
Dean had come to stand next to Laurel and gaze in awe at the equipment.  
“You almost put the Impala’s trunk to shame.” He breathed, leaning into the trunk and pulling out a decanter from a box that was filled with beautiful reddish gold oil.  
“That’s French Oil of Abramelin. Not the true oil, but close enough. I’m making a more accurate version back at the apartment.” Laurel glanced at Dean as she rifled through the trunk for hunting supplies. This girl never ceased to amaze him.  
“So, what’s the plan?” Laurel questioned, tossing a rather ornate shotgun to Dean.  
“I guess we head out into the woods and keep an eye out for anything suspicious.” Dean’s statement sounded like more of a question to Laurel.  
“I’m sorry that they sent you out here with me instead of going into the actual coven grounds.” Laurel apologized, shouldering her bag and shutting the trunk.  
“Trust me, darlin’, you’re doing me a favor.” Dean winked at Laurel and headed on down the path.  
“You know, Dean, they really aren’t all that bad. You don’t seem to mind Lilianna.” Laurel caught up to Dean and tried to keep pace with him.  
“Lilianna is a good soul; a little misguided albeit, but there doesn’t seem to be an evil bone in her body.” Dean looked over to see the expression on Laurel’s face.  
Her brow was knit and her lips were puckered in thought.  
“What?” Dean prodded her.  
“Nothing, it just surprises me that you’re a hunter and this ignorant, that’s all.” Laurel shrugged, not making eye contact with Dean.  
“Excuse me?” Dean grunted, reaching out to grab Laurel’s shoulder as she passed him with her stride, and spun her around.  
“You’re so closed minded when it comes to witch crafting. It’s rather disappointing. I figured since you eat, sleep, and breathe the supernatural that you wouldn’t have an issue with the true craft.” Laurel tapped her foot steadily as she spoke; she was going to stand her ground.  
“First off I’ve had nothing but bad experiences with ‘witches’, and second why are you getting so damn defensive about it?” Dean shot up a brow.  
“Well, first off my sister is a witch, and second…so was my mother.” Laurel removed Dean’s hand from her shoulder and turned heel, continuing her casual pace.  
“I, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Dean sputtered, following closely behind her.  
“You couldn’t have known, Dean. My father didn’t even really know how into the craft she was until after she passed.” Talking about her mother always put Laurel’s head in a fog.  
“If you don’t mind me asking…how did she pass?” Dean had come to stand beside her, and matched her walking perfectly.  
“She was killed when I was very small. I remember a good bit about her, though.” Laurel was almost staring at the ground now as she walked.  
“What happened?” Dean pushed, hoping to get more information out of Laurel. He knew there was so much about her that she wasn’t telling.  
“Remember how I asked you about the Colt being used to kill Azazel?” She stopped her stride again and looked directly into Dean’s eyes.  
“Yeaaah…” He responded slowly, waiting for her explanation. She just narrowed her eyes, telling him everything through them.  
“Son of a bitch.” Dean swore and spun himself around so that he wasn’t facing Laurel any more.  
A million memories were playing through his mind.  
The night that his mother was consumed by the blaze set by Azazel, his father disappearing almost 6 years ago, finding him only to lose him shortly there-after when he gave himself to the demon to save Dean. All The things that had happened to him in regards to this pit snake may have affected Laurel too.  
He turned back around to face her after composing himself.  
“Azazel killed your mother?” Dean’s voice sounded strange, talking about Azazel killing someone’s mother other than his own. He knew the answer but he wanted to hear it in Laurel’s voice.  
“Yes,” Laurel couldn’t contain herself anymore and sat down abruptly in the middle of the trail. She began to cry softly as the images came flooding back to her.  
Dean couldn’t help himself, but he had to be strong; at least one of them did. He scooped her up into a standing position and walked her over to an old tree stump that jutted out from the side of the earthen walkway and sat her down.  
“Talk to me.” Dean pleaded, squatting down in front of her, trying to get her to focus on speech instead of the memory replaying itself over and over again in her head.  
“I was young, Dean, maybe seven when it happened.” She wiped the tears away that were welling up in her eyes again.  
“I had this imaginary friend that no one else could see. I told my mom and dad that it was a bird, a hawk to be exact. They never really thought anything of it. Mom would hear me talking to it; nothing really unnerving except for the occasional comment about the yellow eyes I would see watching me sleep. Even dad just chalked it up to a wild imagination.” Laurel swept her bangs away from her face, took a deep breath, and kept going.  
“This part is a little blurry, but from what dad told me, I can piece it together.”  
“Mom heard me talking very strangely in my room one evening. She kept hearing me talk about being ‘chosen’ and that I was a special child. As she listened more intensely to my conversation with nobody, she started to hear another voice; a man’s voice.”  
“She burst into the room thinking that some man had somehow broken into the house and was going to harm her only daughter, but what she found was him leaning down in front of me bleeding into my eyes and mouth from a cut on his wrist. She yelled for my father at the top of her lungs and charged forward to scoop me up, but the demon had put up a type of circle, the Seal of Saturn, to keep anyone from getting to me. It threw her across the room and she screamed in some language I didn’t recognize at the time.”  
Laurel paused again to check the expression on Dean’s face. His lips were pursed and his brow was furrowed harshly. He was getting angry and Laurel wondered if she should stop, but as if he could read her mind he shook his head slightly.  
“Whatever words she uttered in that language drove the demon mad, and he reared back from me and pulled himself from the circle. I remember blinking and my eyes burning from the blood, but he got to my mother so quickly that I didn’t even have time to catch it. He had her by the throat and was raising her in the air when she called out, ‘Take me instead. Take me instead of Laurel. I’ll trade you my soul for hers.’  
He set her down then, and looked her straight in the eye. ‘Seal it.’ He whispered, and then pulled my mother to him roughly and began to kiss her.  
At this point my father came rushing in. He had tried as hard as he could to get in through all of this, but the demon had kept the door shut tight.  
He saw my mother embraced by the demon and went to help, but there was nothing he could do. She fell to the floor, bleeding from her stomach, looking as if the life had been sucked right out of her.  
The Seal of Saturn that was around me erupted into flames then and the room began to fill with them. There was nothing my father could do for my mother, so his only thought was to get me to safety before it was too late.  
We lost the whole house that night; the only thing we had left was the Bel Air and each other.”  
Laurel finished her story and stared blankly past Dean’s right ear.

Dean’s mind went blank. Was Laurel one of the demon children, like Sam had been? But her story didn’t seem to match Azazel’s MO. So, what could it be that he had planned for Laurel?

“So, what then?” Dean asked rather robotically. He was still trying to take in the story she told him, but he had to hear how it went on from there.

“Dad was determined to hunt this demon down and kill him; he became obsessed with tracking and hunting him. He would get leads and leave for weeks at a time. I stayed with a close family friend for some years off and on till they couldn’t handle me anymore. Around the time I turned eleven we met the Corbins, Lilianna’s family. They were under the impression that my father was a widow, a single working father, and that he had to leave for long periods of time for his job, so they took me in while he was gone.  
For a year I stayed with them periodically, seeing Dad every few weeks or so. As it got close to my twelfth birthday, Dad decided it was time to tell me all about the family business.  
He took me on my first hunt; vampires, and gave me the Dragoon. I killed my first vamp two weeks after training. Dad said I was a natural.”  
Laurel huffed and closed her eyes for a second, drinking in her first memories as a hunter. Dean just stared at her, amazed at the similarities in their life.  
“After that I hunted with Dad non-stop till I was sixteen. I came back here to Salem for a while, tried to be a normal kid and go to the High School here. I failed. I wasn’t a normal kid and never would be. The only thing that I benefited from that stint was my relationship with Lilianna; she became a sister to me.  
I sent her letters constantly while I was out on hunts, making up stories about Dad’s job as a traveling salesman.” Laurel laughed a sweet laugh at this memory, and the sound made Dean’s flesh raise in goose bumps.  
“For a while the hunt for Azazel was quiet. I mean, Dad didn’t even figure his name out till I was almost nineteen…that’s when he left.”  
Laurel narrowed her eyes and stared into some existence that Dean couldn’t see.  
“We were actually in Salem, staying with Lilianna. I woke up one morning and the Bel Air was there, but Dad was gone. I tried calling him and calling him, but I kept getting his voicemail. I went to the Bel Air to see if there were any clues to him leaving. All I found was the keys in the glove compartment and a note that read ‘She’s yours. Take care of her, baby.’ And that was it.  
I set out on my own after that. Trying to find some way to find him and hunt everything that I could to keep my mind off the fact that I was losing my father just as I had lost my mother.”  
Laurel was biting her lower lip so hard that it began to bleed a little. This was a very difficult subject for her to talk about and Dean understood why.

“I was out on my own for a while after that. I came back periodically to see Lilianna, but I spent the majority of my time in the Bel Air driving cross country in search of more hunts and in search of my father. I even called him now and again, but always got his voicemail.  
After six months I finally got a phone call from him. I was in Houston at the time, hunting down a chupacabra sighting that turned out to be nothing more than hell hounds.  
He told me that he was with a friend, John, and that he was ok. He’d try and keep me updated, but he said they were on Azazel’s track and were getting so close to finding him. I got a few phone calls like that.” Laurel stared aimlessly at her feet as she spoke.  
Dean’s mind did a back flip.  
John? Could she have meant John Winchester, his father?  
“John who?” Dean croaked. His throat had dried out from sitting with his mouth agape so long.  
“He never mentioned a last name to me. All he said was that he and John were in the same boat. Hunting the same demon for destroying their families. Apparently Azazel had killed his wife in a similar manner to my mother.” Laurel choked back tears again at the thought.  
Dean bolted upright, on his feet in seconds, eyes ablaze. He began to pace back and forth between Laurel and the long trail that stretched ahead of them.  
“What is it, Dean? I seem to upset you a lot when I speak.” Laurel stared at him, puzzled.

“Laurel…John was my father.” Dean’s eyes were wide and doe eyed now. He seemed as if he had seen a ghost.  
This statement sent Laurel reeling and she almost tumbled backwards off the tree stump. She stood up and grabbed Dean by the shoulders abruptly, forcing him to stare straight into those oceanic eyes of hers.  
“Dean, does that mean that your father killed Azazel with the Colt?” Laurel’s eyes were darting back and forth between Dean’s. She looked frantic. Dean wasn’t sure if she was going to jump for joy or just off herself right there from coming into this knowledge.  
“No, Laur. Dad gave his life to Azazel to save me about five years ago.” Dean held her the same way now because her nerves had her shaking so badly it was rattling Dean’s brain.  
“Then wh-“ Laurel cut herself off.  
“Me. I shot him right after the gates were opened by old Samuel Colt’s place.” Dean’s expression was completely serious.  
“Son of a bitch.” Laurel swore and loosened her grip on Dean, only to reinforce it on herself in the form of pulling on her hair.  
Dean would have laughed at her response, if it hadn’t been for the situation.  
“I can’t believe this. Dad called me around that time, I assume right after your father’s passing, and told me that he had lost John to the demon. Dad himself didn’t last much longer after that.” Laurel was in a complete daze now; her knees were wobbling so badly, Dean thought they were going to give out completely.  
“What happened?” Dean came to steady her and listen to her finish her story.  
“He finally caught up to Azazel. He was being driven mad by the loss that this demon left in his wake. He told me he had found some sort of ritual that would destroy him all together, but never got to use it. Azazel got to him first.  
Azazel kept coming to me in my dreams, Dean. Telling me that it was almost time. Time for what, I will never know.  
When I got back into contact with Dad shortly after John passed, I told him about this and he went crazy. He said he was going to send him back to hell where he belonged. That was the last I heard from him.  
I got a phone call from a friend of his a few weeks later telling me that Dad was dead. They wouldn’t give me any details to what happened, but I left as soon as I could to meet up with them.  
I gave Dad a good send off, salted and burned the body just like he would have wanted it.”  
Laurel burst into tears and lost all of her control. She collapsed at Dean’s feet before he could catch her and just sobbed.  
“He wouldn’t let me help him! He was more concerned about saving me from what killed Mom! If I had been there, if I just could have stopped it…” Laurel babbled, face down in the dirt.  
Dean’s heart bled for her. He knew exactly what she was going through, but there was nothing he could do to end her pain. He at least got to see his father one last time after he died.  
Dean knelt down to cradle Laurel. She fought him at first, flailing her arms in protest; she didn’t want to be comforted at all.  
“Laurel…Laurel! Calm down!” Dean tried to hold her still.  
Her sobbing started to slow; she was murmuring to herself softly now.  
“Laur…” Dean started to ask if she was ok when she turned to look up at him.  
Her eyes were wide and a watery aqua blue, almost green color. This sight made Dean draw a sharp breath. There was something so strange in her eyes, but he couldn’t figure it out. They were too beautiful even like this, to form words.  
“I’m sorry.” She whispered, pulling away from Dean and steadying herself so she could stand up.  
“We need to get going. I’m sure Sam and Lily have all sorts of leads and we haven’t done anything except reminisce over nostalgia and blubber like an idiot.” Laurel was obviously referring more to herself, than Dean.  
Laurel would be angry at herself for breaking down like this in front of anyone, let alone Dean.  
His concerned expression followed her as she picked up her bag and wiped the bitter tears from her eyes.  
Why did he even care? She still had no idea if her will that she put upon him in her note even had any effect. Was it scary to her that it had, and she couldn’t lift it; or even scarier, that it hadn’t worked at all. What made him change his mind about her?  
Laurel scolded herself silently at these questions; it wasn’t time for frivolous personal nonsense.  
“Ready?” She asked more to herself than Dean, and started walking up the path. Dean responded with a silent nod and headed up close behind her.  
This day was off to a dreary start.

 

* * *

 

“It’s beautiful out here.” Sam breathed as he and Lilianna traversed through the green coven grounds.  
There were people everywhere; some in little groups talking quietly while others laughed joyously and danced about. All were clothed in ritualistic garb; flowing skirts and robes, bells on their ankles, and elaborate jewelry. Some were even barefoot.  
“I love it out here. Even when there isn’t a big ritual going on, most of the Coven spend their free time here. We are, however, getting ready for one of the Sabbats, the holiday of Beltane.” Lilianna spoke to Sam as they walked deeper into the grounds.  
“Beltane? Isn’t that a fertility holiday.” Sam queried, still watching people run around them, laughing and talking amorously.  
“Yes, it’s when the Earth becomes ripe with bounty. Seeds are planted in March at Ostara and they are now beginning to grow and flourish. The land is fertile and so are we.” She smiled sweetly up at Sam. This look made Sam blush instinctively, and he turned his face away, hoping she wouldn’t notice.  
“Now tell me a little about Inanna. I don’t really know much about her.” Sam lied, he knew a bit but he wanted to get a witch’s perspective on the Goddess.  
“She is the Sumerian goddess of sexual love, fertility, and warfare. Which makes this Sabbat a perfect one for her.  
She was also associated with rain and storms, as well as the Planet Venus.  
One story tells that Inanna descended into the underworld, supposedly for her brother-in-law’s funeral rites, though the belief is that she was actually going to take over the Underworld and become ruler.  
Her sister, Ereshkigal, was the queen of the Underworld. She became suspicious of Inanna’s intentions by the way that she was lavishly dressed for a supposed funeral.  
She was stripped down as she passed through the seven gates to get to her sister and when she arrived she tried to take the throne, but her sister wouldn’t have it and for that, the Seven Judges turned Inanna into a corpse.  
She had her handmaid petition to the Gods of the Heavens to save her, and after much deliberation and planning, they did so.  
Demons loyal to Ereshkigal escorted Inanna from the Underworld, but demanded that she wasn’t free to go until someone took her place.  
They wanted to take her hand maid, her beautician, and mourning friends, but she refused all of these for they assisted her and they were loyal followers.  
Then the Demons came upon Inanna’s husband, Dumuzi; who, despite his wife having been trapped in the Underworld, was reveling underneath a tree dressed in lavish clothing with not a care in the world.  
Out of anger and spite, Inanna demanded that the Demons take her husband.  
He tried to flee, but a fly told Inanna where he was. However, Dumuzi’s sister, out of love, begged them to take her instead. So , it was decided that Dumuzi would spend half of the year in the Underworld and his sister, the other half.  
Inanna began to regret her decision, missing and longing for her husband while he resides in the Underworld.  
Those six months correspond with the Winter and Fall seasons, for Inanna is barren and infertile. But when he comes back for the other six months out of the year, Innana is filled with love, life and fertility; those are the Spring and Summer months.” Lilianna smiled at Sam. She was very proud of herself for that knowledge, and Sam seemed to be equally impressed.  
“Any way, now that you have a little knowledge about our Goddess, I want you to meet someone.” Lilianna began to lead Sam towards a beautifully rustic cabin set back in the grounds. It was covered in vines and climbing flowers, with a quaint stone walkway.  
“Where are we going?” Sam questioned, happily following Lilianna.  
“To meet Victoria, our High Priestess.” Lilianna tugged a little harder.

 

They entered the cabin and a waft of sweet hotly burning oils met Sam’s senses. The sound of a sultry sitar and bells could be heard and there were women dressed scantily, bustling about silently.  
From a curtain in the back emerged a slender woman, ornately adorned with golds and precious stones, dressed in a form fitting, floor length dress made of silk, slit on the sides to her hips. She had wild black hair that flowed behind her and eyes that were even wilder, honey in color.  
“Lilianna, my dear.” She beckoned as Lilianna followed. She embraced her sensually and kissed each cheek, Lilianna returned them promptly.  
“What brings you here on a work day? I figured you’d be at the shop” The woman smirked and leaned back slightly, crossing her arms.  
“I have Tristan watching the shop for me today. How are things going with the ritual preparation, Victoria?” Lilianna queried, silently beckoning for Sam to come closer; be part of the conversation.  
“Wonderfully, my love. We are pretty much done with everything, though we still have a few things missing.” Victoria answered the question and then turned her attention to Sam, sizing him up; studying him thoroughly.  
“And who is this gorgeous young man?” Victoria reached out one slender, bejeweled finger and raked it down Sam’s arm. His skin immediately erupted in goose bumps.  
“This is Sam. He’s new in Salem; he hasn’t met many that are part of the craft.” Lilianna placed her hand on Sam’s arm in a friendly gesture. Yet again, his skin prickled; but in a different manner.  
“Ah, fresh meat. Are you wanting to join the Beltane festivities? No doubt Lilianna has filled you in on the meaning of the Sabbat.” Victoria winked at Sam and then cackled a rather high pitched laugh.  
“Actually, I knew a decent bit about the Sabbat. I would love to experience a ritual for myself, though.” Sam flashed his pearly whites in Victoria’s direction and her eyes returned the sparkle.  
“Fantastic.” She breathed, still smiling.  
“His, um, brother wanted to join too. His name is Dean. He couldn’t make it up here today; work and all.” Lilianna chipped in, squeezing Sam’s arm slightly.  
Before Sam could reinforce the “brother” idea, a young man emerged from the velvet curtains behind Victoria.  
He was about three inches shorter than Sam, darker complexion. Sam thought he rather looked like an ancient Egyptian pharaoh.  
His eyes were deep and dark; his face boasting a prominent, yet distinguished nose, and full reddened lips. His hair hung heavily around his shoulders, black as night and with a slight wave to it. His body was just as bold; broad and strong, even under his loosely fitting clothing.  
He came up behind Victoria stealthily, gripped her about the waist and parted his lips slightly, placing a sensual kiss on the back of Victoria’s neck.  
Sam watched these actions intently, until he heard a muffled choking sound next to him.  
He turned his attention slightly towards the sound.  
Lilianna’s eyes were wide and her face was flushed with color. Sam really couldn’t tell whether she was in shock or so angry that she couldn’t speak.  
After this man had finished his rather blatant sort of affection towards Victoria, and she had turned her focus back onto Sam and Lilianna she exclaimed, “You know Horus, don’t you?”  
Lilianna swallowed hard and replied, “Of course I do. Horus…” Her acknowledgement of his name drew out in a hiss.  
“Lilianna, how is that sister of yours?” Horus’s statuesque faced turned almost sinister at the mention of Laurel.  
“Perfect. She’s in town, actually.” Lilianna’s eyes flashed with a fiery hatred.  
Horus’s eyes however seemed to glow in the dimly lit cabin at Lilianna’s response.  
“Brilliant.” Victoria breathed, and shook Horus off, outstretching her hand to Lilianna in a gesture to follow.  
“Come, my dear. I have a very important question for you.” She started to lead Lilianna into the shadows as she called out, “I’m sure you boys can occupy yourselves.”

 

“I’m so glad Laurel is in town for the festivities. I have a very important role for her; if she will accept it.” Victoria had sat Lilianna in an overstuffed silk and brocade armchair. She was holding her hand softly with one hand, and stroking her knuckles with the other.  
“And that role might be?” Lilianna questioned, ignoring Victoria’s overly affectionate touch.  
“I want her to be our embodiment of the Goddess” Victoria’s eyes were rich with this sentiment.  
“I…I don’t know, Victoria. Laurel hasn’t participated in the Coven’s rituals in over a year. I don’t know how comfortable she’d be.” Lilianna withdrew her hand from Victoria’s snake like grip and rubbed it gently.  
“I know, dear; it’s just that Innana spoke to me and asked for Laurel. This would be a blessing to our Goddess.”Victoria sounded sincere.  
“I’ll talk to her about it, but I can’t promise anything. I’ll let you know after I speak with her.” Lilianna rose from her seat, “I really must be going, though. I have much more to show Sam.” She hugged Victoria lightly, but as she tried to pull away, Victoria whispered in her ear.  
“Persuade her, Love. It would mean the world to this Coven.” She released Lilianna from the hug and watched as she walked away, seemingly flustered.

 

“Are you alright?” Sam noted the fury in Lilianna’s eyes.  
“Not exactly.” Lilianna spoke through her teeth.  
“What is it?” Sam didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, but he had to know why Lilianna was so furious.  
“Horus; that asshole.” She threw her hand in the air as her and Sam walked at a rather fast pace back to the Impala.  
“He is Laurel’s bastard of an ex boyfriend. That jerk dicked her over so badly, and now he’s with Victoria! How brazen can he be?” Lilianna threw both arms into the air, now, in frustration.  
“Oh, I see.” Sam, breathed a sigh of relief. He was actually anxious that Horus had been her ex lover.  
“Laurel is not going to be happy about this at all.” Lilianna was still fuming.  
“Why don’t we head back into town and get something to eat; cool down a bit.” Sam suggested, placing a comforting hand on Lilianna’s back.  
She calmed down a little and spoke smoothly. “Sounds good, but let me call Laurel and see how her and Dean are getting along on their venture.”

 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! The nerve of that asshole. No, Dean and I are fine; just surveying the Circles out here in the woods. Lili, can we talk about what Victoria wants when I get back to the shop? I’m a little too ticked off to mull anything she has to say over in my head. Yeah, I love you too hunny.” Laurel punched the end key on her phone and dumped it back in her bag.  
“Uh, everything ok?” Laurel looked up at Dean just in time to catch his concerned expression, eyebrow raised.  
“Dandy.” Laurel spat, crossing in front of Dean and heading down a small path, deeper into the woods that they had headed into.  
“Please, tell me you don’t want to talk about it.” Dean sighed, following closely behind her.  
“You’re in luck; I don’t. This way, Dean.” Laurel reached out and tugged Dean in her direction as he tried to follow a path that hadn’t been trod in years.  
“What are we looking for?” Dean whispered, not really knowing why he decided to talk in such a hushed tone. In the back of his mind was this image of some hideous woman jumping out from behind one of the trees and cursing him in some devil tongue. Irrational as it was, it spooked him.  
“Looking for Circle grounds.” Laurel spoke, and before Dean could ask what the hell those were, she replied, “Ritual space, Dean. Not all Ritual work is done in the Coven grounds. A lot of the witches circle in smaller groups when there isn’t a big Coven get together.”  
As she finished her sentence they came upon just that. A small space, with maybe the diameter of eight feet laid before them, outlined with smooth polished river stones to mark the circle’s boundaries. In the middle was the bisection of a tree, circles of colored wax and scorch marks evident on top of it.  
Starting at twelve o’ clock, Laurel circled around the outside of the stones in a clockwise manner. She held her right hand out slightly over the circle as she went. When she came back to where she began, she uttered, “There really doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary here.”  
Dean shot her a baffled look, “There’s not?”  
Laurel seemed to have shaken herself out of a daze and looked up at Dean.  
“I mean, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Looks like a normal circle to me; nothing more, nothing less.” She walked through the direct middle of the circle and came back to meet Dean on the outside of six o’ clock.  
“Let’s move on and try to find another circle.” Laurel headed out onto another trail.  
“Why are we looking for circles exactly?” Dean surprisingly had to quicken his stride to keep up with Laurel.  
“I figured maybe it may give us a clue to why coveners are disappearing. Maybe an evocation went wrong or something.” Laurel seemed to be talking to herself.  
“Yeah, sure. Maybe that’s it.” Dean rolled his eyes and broke even with Laurel’s stride, just as they came into another clearing.  
This one was much larger than the former; at least thirty feet in diameter. The stones lain around this one all had various symbols painted on top of them, and in the middle of the circle stood a solid stone Altar, as opposed to the plain tree stump at the other. It too, had symbols carved in a pattern, covering almost every inch of it.  
“This circle is much bigger than that other one.” Dean commented, running his hand over the top of the Altar. Despite the slight chill in the late April air, the stone was warm to the touch, as if it had been in direct sunlight.  
This sent chills up Dean’s spine and he moved outside of the circle slowly, not wanting to look like he was scared.  
“Do you smell that?” Laurel whispered as she came to stand in front of the Altar.  
“I don’t smell anything but dirt and old leaves.” Dean snorted, walking the circle as Laurel had with the other, minus the outstretched hand.  
“I smell sulfur, Dean.” Laurel’s eyes were now closed and her palms were laid flat on top of the Altar.  
Dean stopped short at her response. “Excuse me?”  
“Sulfur; it’s latent, though. Something was here, but it isn’t any more.” Laurel opened her eyes and circled inside the sacred space.  
“Something isn’t right, Dean. Something feels off.” Laurel was casting her senses outward as she spoke. She could feel all sorts of emotions that had been in this circle at one point: rage, lust, envy, a hunger for power. Even though whatever had brought those emotions was long gone, Laurel could feel them as if they were still there.  
Finally she stopped dead center in the circle. She could feel an energy vibrating below her feet. As she knelt down to feel for it, the energy vibrated even stronger.  
There beneath one of her boots was a Coven pentacle, burned and tarnished, just like the others had been.  
“Dean…” Laurel slowly stood upright, dangling the pentacle in front of her.  
“Where did you find that?” Dean rushed over and took the pentacle from between Laurel’s fingers.  
“Underneath my boot. I heard my steel toe hit something metal.” She lied blatantly.  
As Dean examined the pentacle closely, Laurel began to circle the outside of the space.  
She kept feeling those same emotions, only stronger. They seemed to be concentrated in intervals around the circle, but she didn’t see anything that would give an inclination as to why.  
Then a thought struck her. She bolted over to a tree outside the circle with low lying branches, even though they were still a little too high for her to reach.  
“Dean, give me a boost.” She called out, trying to reach in vain for the lowest branch.  
Dean watched her grope difficultly at the branch for a second before he came over to help.  
He didn’t even think about giving her a foot up; instead he gripped her around the waist with one arm, and placed his other underneath her thighs like a chair, and hoisted her upward.  
This action made Laurel twitch a bit, but she ignored it and began to climb high up into the tree.  
Dean watched as she crept nimbly upward, branch after branch effortlessly climbed over, until she reached a height of about twelve feet.  
“What are you looking for, Laurel?” Dean shouted up at her.  
“I’ll know it when I see it.” She whispered more to herself than Dean.  
Laurel scanned the circle from above, looking for anything out of the ordinary that might catch her eye. From that height she could see how all the stones were laid out in the circle, how the top of the altar looked, and how the inside of the circle seemed to be slightly off.  
She closed her eyes and cast out her senses, feeling for something that would send up a red flag.  
Laurel could feel heat pulsing below her in intervals around the circle. Symbols and shapes began to form outside of her eyelids. When she opened her eyes she could see them.  
There were hundreds of small sigils carved into the dirt and invisible to the naked eye, but with her extrasensory perception she could see them. Some burned in a fiery orange where others smoldered like the embers of a dying fire.  
She recognized the symbols, an ancient alphabet that her mother had once taught her.  
“Dean,” She called out, her voice wavering slightly, “There has been some bad magic performed here.”  
“What? What do you see?” Dean yelled up at her, bracing himself up against the strong trunk of the tree, like a dog wanting to get at some animal that had climbed out of his reach.  
“Sigils; hundreds of them. Someone was summoning something.” Laurel took a mental photograph so she could remember everything later.  
She looked down at Dean, who was now slinking back from the tree, spinning in a circle slowly, trying to see what Laurel saw.  
“You won’t see them from down there.” Laurel spoke loudly for him to hear her. ‘You wouldn’t see them from here either.’ She began to climb down; nimbly hopping from branch to branch till her feet met the moist earth below her.  
“We better get back to Lilianna and Sam; I think we’ve had enough for the day.” Laurel brushed moss and dirt from her jeans and then straightened up to face Dean. She grabbed her bag that lay at the base of the tree and began to head back up to the trail without waiting for a response from Dean.  
When they made it back to the main road, the sun had broken through the gray clouds of the early morning, and now was beating hotly down upon them; the spring wind whipped quietly around the two.  
“Well, at least we found something.” Dean shrugged, matching his pace to Larurel’s,  
“Yeah, something.” Laurel’s stride began to slow as they came close to the Bel Air. Her head was beginning to swim like it had earlier that morning.  
“What time is it, Dean?” She questioned, raising her hand to her forehead to wipe away beads of sweat that had formed quickly on her pale skin.  
Dean looked down at his watch, “1:30” He looked back at her to see her swaying as she tried to move forward.  
“Laur, are you alright?” He turned to come stand beside her.  
“No.” And with one word she began to collapse.

 

‘You were chosen. A blessing. Feel me. Accept my gifts.’ A voice whispered almost inaudibly in Laurel’s head.  
“Blessed.” Laurel whispered.  
“Laurel? What are you talking about?” The voice was louder now, but it wasn’t the same.  
“I feel you.” Laurel cooed, her body numb.  
“Laur, look at me.” It was Dean; she knew that voice.  
Her eyes fluttered open, letting in blinding sunlight.  
“There seems to be a reoccurring theme with us.” Dean was stroking her hair lightly.  
“Wait, what happened?” Laurel tried to sit up, but her head made her feel like she was upside down.  
“I have no idea. Maybe it was the heat. I know I already asked you this, but have you eaten?” Dean questioned her rapidly.  
“Ye…no, I haven’t” She quickly made an excuse, “Maybe my blood sugar is low.”  
“Why don’t we get you home, make something to eat. I could sure use a burger or something.” Dean helped Laurel up slowly; she still wasn’t steady on her feet.  
“Mm hm, food sounds good.” Laurel covered her eyes with her hand; the sun was killing her.  
“I’m driving, darlin’. You don’t seem to be in a good position to be behind the wheel.” Dean fished Laurel’s keys from her front pocket.  
“You have to stop feeling me up, Dean.” Laurel narrowed her eyes even more at his gesture.  
“I can’t help myself.” Dean smiled his usually charming smile and led Laurel to the car.

 

* * *  
“So, what did you see while you were up in that tree?” Dean queried, munching on a piece of sausage.  
The two decided to eat in and Laurel figured brunch sounded like a good idea. She made enough eggs, sausage, and potatoes to feed a small army and was still cooking as Dean ate his plate full of food happily.  
“I told you; sigils.” Laurel vigorously scraped the pan of scrambled eggs before her.  
“I know that, but what sort of language was it? Babylonian? Celtic? Native American?” Dean finished the last bite of his potatoes and brought his plate back over to Laurel for some more.  
“Enochian, or a perverted script of Enochian.” Laurel commented, stirring the eggs one last time, and plopping a spatula full onto Dean’s plate.  
“Perverted? How so?” Dean began eating again before he even got back to the table.  
“I’ll show you.” Laurel turned off the eye on the stove that she was using, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and came to sit by Dean.  
She drew a symbol that oddly looked like a distorted number three, thick and almost blocky, but with an elaborate hand.  
“This is the letter Drux. It’s somewhat a cursive version, but you get the point. It is the same as the letter ‘N’ in our language. But what I saw looked more like this.” Laurel drew the same symbol, but tilted with ragged edges instead of the cursive feel that she had given with the symbol before.  
“That’s strange. Did it spell anything?” Dean spoke through mouthfuls of eggs.  
“I’m sure it did, but there were so many I don’t even know if I can translate it.” Laurel set her pen down and stared out the window into the sunny afternoon.  
“Who taught you Enochian? Isn’t that a demonic language?” Dean had finished his plate and was now eyeing Laurel as she stared aimlessly out the window.  
“Actually, it was the language of the Angels. So, I guess in a way it was perverted already. Mom taught it to me, however. She used it a good bit in spell work. I learned it, but never used it obviously.” Laurel lied through her teeth.  
Just then the door to the apartment opened and Lilianna and Sam came stumbling in, laughing.  
“Oh, hey you two! How’d the hunt go?” Lilianna was beaming from ear to ear. Laurel and Dean’s reaction to this statement was almost identical. They both jerked and turned to Lilianna. Obviously she hadn’t meant anything close to how Dean and Laurel took it.  
“Mm, fine. We found another pendant, though.” Laurel stood and fished the pentacle from her pocket, handing it to Lilianna.  
“Oh, no.” Lilianna’s eyes glazed over. “I wonder who this belonged to. This is just getting out of hand.” She laid it on the kitchen counter and came to sit down on her plush couch.  
“You find anything out inside the Coven?” Laurel sat down beside her and stroked her hair.  
“Not really. But they invited all of us to Beltane. I told her that Sam and Dean were new practitioners in town and didn’t know anyone in the craft. She said we all could come and get a feel for things.” She shot a sideways glance at her sister. Laurel returned the glance with a look that said, “Oh, great. So much for me keeping my craft a secret.’  
“Hey, Laur? I need to talk to you about something. Want to come out on the balcony with me?” She took Laurel’s hand in hers and stood.  
“Yeah, I needed a smoke any way.” Laurel followed her out the French doors onto the balcony and shut them behind her.  
“I think those two communicate silently more than we do.” Sam laughed and came to sit by his brother.  
“You’re telling me.” Dean watched the pantomime that was going on outside. “That Laurel has so much to say, but never really says a word.”

 

“I’m assuming we’re going to talk more about Victoria?” Laurel lit up a cigarette and took a puff.  
“Yes. I know you aren’t too keen on coming to Ritual, but she asked for you specifically.” Lilianna picked at her nails as she spoke, waiting for her sister’s response.  
“What? Me specifically? What for?” Laurel spoke quickly and took another puff.  
“Well…she said that Inanna came to her in a vision. Asked for you in particular to play the role of the Huntress.” Lilianna stared wide eyed at Laurel for a moment  
“She WHAT? She wants me to be the embodiment of the Goddess? Victoria hates me, Lili. Something seems fishy about this.” Laurel took a long drag, and then tapped her fingernails harshly on the railing of the balcony.  
“But it would be such a blessing. You haven’t come to Ritual in over a year. Also…she and Horus seem to be an item.” Lilianna waited for her sister to have a heart attack right there in front of her.  
Instead she let out a hissing, “Shit.” As the comment just made to her caused her to burn her lower lip and drop her cigarette down her blouse. She fished it out and flicked it far into the street.  
“That son of a bitch. I guess he goes wherever power does. Or at least a mockery of power.” Laurel slammed her fist down on the railing.  
“Just consider it, Laur.” Lilianna placed her hand on Laurel’s shoulder.  
“I can’t. If I do, then the boys will know about me, and I just don’t feel comfortable with that.” Laurel pulled away from her sister’s loving gesture.  
“No. They won’t ever know a thing. You’d only be seen for a moment in the beginning of ritual, and you’d be in costume so to speak. They’d never know it was you. Just go talk to Victoria about it.” Lilianna’s eyes were pleading.  
Laurel couldn’t stand Victoria and she had a sinking feeling that this was a trap somehow, but looking at her sister and how badly she wanted this for Laurel made her stomach churn. If she wouldn’t do it for herself, she could do it for Lilianna. It was the least she could do after putting her through so many years of lies.  
“Fine, fine. I’ll go see her tomorrow afternoon. Can I go back inside now?” Laurel made a pouting face in her sister’s direction.  
“I love you.” Lilianna lurched forward and pulled Laurel into a hug.  
“Yeah, I love you too.” Laurel pried herself out of Lilianna’s arms and quickly snuck back inside.

 

“Everything ok?” Dean was lounged back on the settee, eyes closed.  
“Yup, everything is just wonderful.” Laurel shook her head in contradiction. She was starting to feel woozy again. Maybe it was the conversation that was making her feel light headed; maybe it was the lack of sleep. Either way she knew that she needed to get some rest.  
“I’m going to lie down.” Laurel squinted; the dim lighting in the room seemed to be bothering her eyes.  
“Uh, ok.” Dean had sat up and opened his eyes. He eyed Laurel warily.  
“Actually, I may go to bed.” Laurel felt like she was swaying.  
“But it’s only,” Dean glanced at his watch, “3:32. It’s not bedtime.”  
“It is for me. Sorry, Dean. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Laurel came to stand in front of Dean, still squinting.  
“Sure.” Dean was short in his response, but the one word was full of apprehension.  
Laurel leaned down and gave Dean a gentle hug out of habit of her nightly rituals with Lilianna. Dean instinctively slung an arm around her and pulled her close.  
“Get some rest.” He whispered, “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“Yeah, tomorrow.” Laurel slurred, stood, and sauntered to her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

 

Dean spent the majority of the evening listening to Sam and Lilianna talk about Theology and Science. The subject bored him to tears so he tried to nap, but their words kept boring into his head.  
Around 8:30 he rose from the settee and announced, “I’m going back to the hotel. You two don’t stay up too late.”  
“We’ll try not to.” Lilianna giggled, placing her hand on Sam’s. He cast her a loving glance with this gesture.  
“Sure.” Dean waved his hand at the two and exited the apartment. He was going to try and get some sleep, but he wasn’t sure how that was going to go. He had Laurel on the brain and that seemed to be his biggest distraction.

 

* * *

Laurel sped down the long stretch of road to the Coven grounds. She was dreading her meeting with Victoria, especially because Victoria had no idea she was coming.  
The mid-afternoon sun beat down hotly. Even with the windows rolled down Laurel was still too warm for her liking.  
Was it the sudden change of cool spring weather to the heat of early summer? Or was it the strange waves of unease that she had been feeling the past few days?  
In her daze, Laurel almost missed the turn into the grounds. She jerked the wheel hard to the right, and peeled out into the beginning of the drive.  
Several coveners were standing about in the patches of green earth at the beginning of the drive, and they looked at her with distain.  
‘Well, if she didn’t know I was coming, she sure as hell does now.’ Laurel rolled her eyes as she waved an apology to the people out on the lawn. They nodded in slight forgiveness and Laurel sped on.

 

Laurel parked her car in a vacant field; except for a run down Volkswagon van and a Pinto, hers’ was the only car.  
She wove her way through the Coven grounds, trying to block some nasty stares she got from her fellow Coven members. Some smiled gently at her, and others came to give her a quick hug, and then ran off to join their individual groups.  
The people’s reactions sent Laurel’s mind whirling. So many emotions from so many people. What was going on?  
As she pondered this she came upon the cabin that held the High Priestess Victoria.  
Laurel took a deep breath and murmured, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Then headed up the stone walkway to the cabin.

“Can I help you, mistress?” A thin girl dressed in fine purple silks sauntered up to Laurel. Her thin hair fell around her shoulders in waves, and her eyes were a smoldering orange color. Her makeup was almost overdone, and Laurel could tell that without it, she would look much younger.  
“I need to speak to Victoria.” Laurel uttered, still studying the girl.  
Before the girl could process this request she blurted out, “Laurel? Is that you?”  
Laurel cocked her head to the side. “Yes?”  
“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever!” She threw her arms around Laurel’s neck and hugged her tightly.  
“Um, fine.” Laurel was confused. Apparently she knew this girl.  
“It’s me, Cecilia.” She beamed at Laurel. Her smile jump started Laurel’s memory and the name triggered something in her past. She knew Cecilia.  
Cecilia had been one of Lilianna’s closest friends when they were in High School. They used to hang out when Laurel and Lilianna were about sixteen, but Laurel really couldn’t stand her. She had been shallow and vapid, and not very understanding of the sisters and their craft.  
Now, she stood before Laurel; a lackey to Victoria.  
“Oh, hey.” Laurel nicely pried Cecilia’s arms from around her neck.  
“Could you possibly tell Victoria I’m here. It’s fairly important.” Laurel shifted her weight from one leg to the other. She was highly uncomfortable.  
Cecilia realized that the happy mood of their meeting wasn’t mutual.  
“Yeah, sure.” Her tone of voice changed abruptly from friendly to condescending. She wandered off behind a set of curtains and a few minutes later someone emerged. It was not who Laurel was expecting,  
“Well, well. If it isn’t my little witch.” The voice was smooth, almost regal.  
“Horus…” Laurel hissed, crossing her arms over her chest.  
“Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?” He reached his hand out and caressed Laurel’s face.  
“If that old friend is you, then yes.” She jerked her head to the side to show that she didn’t approve of his affections.  
“I missed you, angel.” He put his face close to hers, commanding that she direct her eyes towards his.  
“According to Lilianna, you’re doing just fine. I hear you and Victoria are together.” She returned the stare, but not with the same mock affection.  
“Our relationship is complicated, my love.” He stood back from Laurel, and brushed a lock of wavy ebony hair from his face.  
“So was ours and you see where it got us.” Laurel stood her ground. She wasn’t going to let him get to her, not again.  
He smiled at this quip and leaned in to say something smart to Laurel when Victoria entered the front room.  
“Laurel, my dear! How wonderful to see you.” She was beaming at Laurel, arms outstretched ready to embrace her.  
Laurel took this opportunity to return the embrace, and completely ignore Horus all together.  
“I’m so glad you decided to come. I was worried Lilianna wouldn’t be able to convince you.” Victoria began to lead Laurel into her chambers, casting a sideways glance at Horus as they left the front room.

 

“So, did your sister explain what I wanted to talk to you about?” Victoria handed Laurel a cup of hot jasmine tea and sat across from her in a high backed velvet chair.  
“She explained a bit. You want me to be the Huntress for Beltane?” Laurel tasted her tea carefully. It didn’t seem to be poisoned. She had a strange feeling about Victoria’s sudden interest in her.  
“Not just I, my dear, but the Goddess Inanna herself. She came to me in a glorious vision while I was meditating one day. She showed me our beautiful Beltane celebration and you were our Huntress. She spoke to me and told me that you have grown in your craft, wise beyond your years. She has chosen you to be her embodiment.” Victoria was smiling wildly. In the dim candlelight of the room this smile looked almost sinister.  
Laurel gulped down the rest of her tea and spoke, “I’m just not quite sure how I feel about this, Victoria. I mean, traditionally speaking, doesn’t the Huntress have to…sleep with the Horned God?”  
“Yes, does that make you uncomfortable?” Victoria’s eyes lowered as she kept sipping her tea.  
“Yeah, it kind of does.” Laurel’s response was quick and to the point.  
“But it is a blessing, dear. And if it makes you feel any better, you won’t even know who the God may be.” She was now boring holes in Laurel with her golden eyes.  
“That really doesn’t make me feel any better at all.” Laurel stood, ready to leave. Maybe this was a bad idea.  
Victoria stood quickly to stop her. “Please, reconsider. Think of how powerful you must be for her to ask me this. Not even I received this blessing, and I am the High Priestess.” She had a grip on Laurel’s wrist like a vice, as she spoke.  
Maybe she was right. Maybe all the years of Laurel’s crafting had paid off; this could be a form of ascendance. This was a blessing. A change in her everyday life of a hunter. A true blessing.  
“Fine, Victoria. I’ll be your Huntress.” Even though the words came flooding out of Laurel’s mouth, a little voice in the back of her head whispered, ‘Don’t do it.’  
“Brilliant!” Victoria was jubilant, “You will become one with the Divine this Beltane!”  
“I’m still not sure how I feel about being with the Horned God…” Laurel’s voice trailed off as Victoria embraced her once again.  
“Don’t worry, love. You will be one with Inanna and your body with move with the Goddess.” She kissed Laurel’s cheek as she led her quietly back to the front room.  
There seemed to be no one in the front room as Victoria bid Laurel good day, and she thought she could escape without conversation with anyone else.  
She had no such luck.  
Laurel had almost made it to the door when Horus emerged from a darkened corner of the room.

“Leaving so soon, beautiful?” He sauntered up to Laurel.  
“I have business to attend to, Horus. I don’t have time for your conversations.” She turned to let herself out when Horus grabbed her roughly by the waist, and held her tightly against him. He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her face to his.  
Laurel’s heart was pounding rapidly. Even though Horus had treated her like some meaningless play toy over half the time they were together, the energy he emitted still made her weak. All of his infidelities seemed to melt away as she was pressed so closely against him. He knew how to make her walls melt down.  
“So, you’ve decided to be our Huntress? You have no idea how much that pleases me so.” He whispered softly in her ear, grazing the lobe with his lower lip. This motion sent chills up Laurel’s spine.  
She tried to keep her cool in response, “Why does this please you so much, Horus?”  
“Because I have been chosen to be the Horned God. It makes my body ache for yours, Laurel. It’s been oh so long.” Horus was now eye to eye with Laurel. His chocolate eyes were a blaze as he stared intently into the ocean that was Laurel’s. He leaned into her, and covered her mouth with his for a short moment, biting softly at her lower lip as he pulled away.  
This action made Laurel’s head swim, but as she gained her composure she realized how detrimental this could be.  
But she had already promised Victoria, and her promise to Lilianna was even more important. She could do this, even if it crushed her.  
“I have to go, Horus.” Laurel pulled away roughly, straightening herself.  
“So soon, love?” Horus played with a lock of her dark hair.  
“I have places to be.” 

And with that Laurel backed away from Horus and out the door.  
As Laurel jogged back to her car, eager to get back to the shop, the image of Horus’s hungry eyes was still searing in the back of her mind.

 

* * *

Laurel’s final decision to be the Huntress excited her sister to no end.  
Lilianna praised Laurel and hugged her so tightly, Laurel thought she was going to pass out from the inability to breathe.  
After this small celebration, Lilianna announced that she was going with Sam back out to the coven to ‘investigate’ some more.  
Dean, apparently, had decided to stay in for the day.  
Laurel followed suit. For some reason she was incredibly exhausted and decided to retire early for the second day in a row.  
What was going on with her body? Her mind? She was starting to feel out of control.  
Her only solution seemed to be more sleep.

 

* * *

The next day seemed to go the same way the prior evening had.  
Laurel stayed in bed the majority of the day, only leaving to get herself a glass of water now and again.  
She felt bad that she hadn’t even talked to Dean in two days, but she didn’t want him to see her like this. She didn’t even want her sister to know.  
Laurel lay face down in the bed most of the day, either napping or in a trance like daze.  
At around five in the evening she finally fell into a deep fitful sleep.

 

A dream had woken Laurel.  
She could hardly remember it, but it involved a sweet feminine voice and her and Horus in a very primal, very intimate meeting.  
It made her skin crawl.  
As she rolled over she checked the clock on the wall.  
Ten thirty.  
She decided that she needed a glass of water after the disturbing dream, and rolled herself out of bed, not even bothering to put clothes on.  
Laurel wandered out into the kitchen with nothing but her underwear on and poured herself an ice cold glass of water.  
As she stood, propped up against the breakfast bar, gulping down the cool liquid, the door to the apartment burst open and Sam and Lilianna came in, laughing again as usual.  
When Lilianna saw her sister, she almost jumped at the sight of her.  
“Baby are you feeling alright?” She rushed to her sister’s side.  
“Of course.” Laurel’s voice echoed in her glass as she still drank.  
“You look ill. Are you getting enough rest?” Lilianna put the back of her hand to Laurel’s forehead.  
Laurel just nodded in response.  
“I was going to go out with Sam and have dinner, but if you’re not feeling well, I’ll stay here with you.” Lilianna put her arm around her sister.  
“Lily, I’m fine. I’m an insomniac; the lack of sleep is just catching up to me.” Laurel finished her glass of water and poured herself another.  
“Are you sure?” Lilianna’s brow was wrinkled in concern.  
Laurel nodded again.  
“Fine, but if you need me, call me.” Lilianna looked stern.  
“I will. Promise.” Laurel began to drink again.  
Lilianna turned and place her hand on Sam’s arm, “I’m just going to freshen up; I won’t be long.”  
Laurel waited for Lilianna to disappear into her bedroom when she set her drink down harshly on the counter.  
“What are your intentions with my sister, Sam?” She eyed him warily, still propped up against the counter in her underwear.  
“I really like Lili, Laurel. I would never hurt her.” Sam’s face was soft in response.  
“So, you don’t think leaving her after this hunt is over is going to hurt her?” Laurel picked up her glass and began to drink again.  
“Who said I was going to leave?” Sam raised an eyebrow.  
“You’re a hunter, Sam. We don’t stay in one place for very long. It’s impossible. And I’m pretty sure you aren’t going to give up the hunt for my sister. Even if you did, you’d still be putting her in danger.” Laurel’s tone was harsh; snappy.  
“What’s gotten into you, Laurel?” Sam seemed disgusted.  
Laurel raised her arm to point at Sam in accusation when a buzzing arose in her ears. It was as if someone was whispering harshly in them.  
She blinked hard, trying to stop the noise but it only grew louder. She began to sway.  
“Laurel? Laurel, are you ok?” Sam’s expression was confused.  
Laurel tried to respond, but she couldn’t. The room had seemingly gotten smaller. All the white noise around her grew louder and louder, and with each interval, Laurel could hear less and less of Sam.  
“Laurel, answer me!” Sam had been trying to get a response out of her, but all she did was stare blankly in his direction.  
Sam watched as Laurel tried to step away from bar and collapsed a few feet from him, with a resounding thud as her limp body hit the floor.  
Sam rushed to her side and lifted her head.  
Laurel’s eyes were rolled in the back of her head.  
Sam was about to call out for Lilianna when Laurel began to speak softly.  
It was in a language Sam didn’t understand or even recognize. Laurel’s voice sounded deep and velvety as she spoke poetry in an archaic language.  
Sam began to get worried. What was going on? This obviously wasn’t from lack of sleep. Something otherworldly was going on with Laurel.  
Sam thought quickly. He couldn’t have Lilianna come out and see this, and she would be out any minute.  
He slipped his phone from his pocket and held down the number two speed dial.  
“Dean, I need you to get over to Lilianna’s as soon as possible.” Sam spoke rapidly into the receiver.  
“What? Why?” Dean sputtered into the phone.  
“Something is horribly wrong, Dean. I think Laurel may be possessed.” Sam looked over at Laurel. She had begun to convulse.  
“Son of a bitch.” Was all Sam heard and then the line went dead. 

 

Dean got to the apartment faster than he had ever gotten anywhere before and nimbly climbed the fire escape.  
He tapped on one of the French doors quietly and Sam rushed to it to unlock and open it.  
“Where is she?” Dean’s eyes were wild as he gripped his brother’s shoulders.  
Sam led him to Laurel who was now sprawled out on the floor, back arched and eyes still rolled in the back of her head.  
Dean took his jacket off in one swift movement, wrapped Laurel in it, and hoisted her over his shoulder.  
“I’m taking her back to the hotel. If Lilianna asks, she’s in bed.” Sam nodded in response as Dean disappeared through the French doors and down the fire escape.

 

“Excuse me.” Dean tried to discreetly weave himself through several unknowing people in the lobby of the hotel. Laurel was still slung over his shoulder, convulsing in short intervals.  
“Can I help you, sir?” An elderly man at the front desk spied Dean and his unusual “luggage”.  
“No, I’m fine, thanks. She got an early start on the beer tonight and just, pff, passed out, wasted.”  
Dean was extremely nervous about this excuse. To any normal human being it probably looked like Dean was taking this “wasted” girl back to his room for a little fun. If they only knew.  
“If you need anything, sir, just let me know.” The elderly man nodded at Dean as he hurried down the hallway to the left of the front desk and into an awaiting elevator.

 

“Laurel, can you hear me?” Dean was bent down low over Laurel. She was laying flat on her back in the middle of his twin bed, fists clenched and eyes still rolled in the back of her head.  
“Laurel, listen to me. I need you to give me some sign that you’re ok.” Dean spoke to her as he rifled through his bag for some holy water and a rosary.  
Slowly she unclenched one of her fists and reached out to grab his hand. As her fingers grazed his palm it was as if something snatched her hand back abruptly.  
This movement caused Laurel to let out a deep guttural moan, and her back arched once again in response.  
“You wanna play? Then let’s play.” Dean whispered, hovering the rosary over Laurel’s face.  
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Dean spoke under his breath, slowly lowering the cross to Laurel’s face.  
She writhed beneath it, but never made a sound. The only thing heard was her deep, consistent breathing.  
Dean kept going.  
“Ergo draco maledicte et section. Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica. Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, audi nos.”  
Laurel then began to speak, in a deep rich tone. The voice was almost too low to be hers, but there were inflections that let Dean know who was speaking.  
She spoke in a language that Dean couldn’t understand. It flowed smoothly from her mouth, deep and quiet like a whisper. The sounds she uttered were almost sensual.  
Dean couldn’t move. All he could do was sit there and listen to the beautiful poetry.  
It lulled him and he closed his eyes, almost in a trance like state.  
Then he heard it. Laurel’s voice resounding through his mind.  
“Open your eyes, Dean. Don’t lose yourself.”  
Dean’s eyes popped open and he stared down at Laurel.  
She was writhing in the bed, trailing her fingers over the cool sheets and turning her head side to side.  
Whatever was going on with her seemed to be distracted and Dean took this as an in.  
He pressed the rosary to Laurel’s head and whispered, “You’re not welcome here.”  
With the last word spoken, Laurel elicited a blood curdling scream, tensed up, and then fell back into sheets, her head cocked to one side.

 

Dean leaned in close to her; listening to make sure that she was breathing.  
Her breath came softly in small gasps, but her eyes stayed closed, almost as if she were only asleep.  
“Laur, Laurel, come on, darlin’. Wake up.” Dean had his hand behind Laurel’s head and lifted it up to prop it on his lap as he sat beside her in the bed.  
She groaned at this gesture and turned her head away from him, burying her face in his jeans.  
“Please, don’t hurt me.” She whispered almost inaudibly into the cloth.  
Dean furrowed his brow. “I would never hurt you.”  
He ran his fingers through her hair, now damp with sweat.  
As if suddenly realizing she was in a strange place, Laurel sat bolt upright in the bed, almost sending Dean toppling to the floor.  
“Where am I?” Laurel faced away from Dean, seemingly talking to the wall.  
“You’re at the Hawthorne, Laurel.” Dean tried not to startle her, but it seemed impossible.  
She whirled around to face Dean, eyes wide and confused.  
“How did I get here? Why am I here?” Laurel sputtered frantically.  
She stood from her seat on the bed and stared wide eyed around the room.  
Before Dean had time to respond to her question, Laurel had looked down and realized that she was in nothing but her old, beat up AC/DC shirt and panties.  
“Dean Winchester!” She roared, “Why the hell was I in your bed in next to nothing and for some reason don’t remember how I got here?” She was shooting daggers at Dean.  
Dean could tell she was furious, but she was so cute just standing there in her underwear with bed head and a glare, that he couldn’t contain his laughter.  
This sent Laurel into an uproar and in seconds her fist connected with Dean’s jaw, sending him sprawling into the wall behind the bed.  
“Hey now! Is that any way to treat someone that just saved your ass?” Dean lay slumped against the wall, rubbing his jaw.  
“What on earth are you talking about?” Laurel’s expression was even more confused than before.  
Just then they heard a knock on the door and a voice followed, “Management!”  
Dean realized that someone must have heard Laurel’s scream when whatever it was that had a hold of her had been thrust out of her body.  
Dean had to think fast to come up with an excuse.  
He quickly pulled of his jacket, and then his shirt, ran his fingers through his hair to ruffle it up, and then made his way to the door.  
Laurel just stood there watching.

Dean opened the door, “Is something wrong…” Dean looked down at the man’s name tag.  
“Carl?” Dean finished, propping himself up on the door frame.  
“We had a couple guests call down to the front desk saying that they heard a woman scream…we just wanted to make sure everything was alright.” ‘Carl’ tried to peek his head into the room, but Dean blocked him.  
“Well, you know…it’s kind of been a crazy night.” Dean scoffed, flashing his usual smile.  
The man looked at Dean as if he didn’t understand his insinuation.  
“He’s a beast in bed; I just couldn’t contain myself.” Laurel had come to stand by Dean. Her hair was now softer than before but still wild and curly, and she had replaced her AC/DC shirt with one of Dean’s wifebeaters from his bag.  
Carl turned bright red as he stared in awe at Laurel.  
She was nuzzling Dean’s bare chest and giving her best ‘bedroom eyes’ to the man at the door.  
“Uh, oh…I see. I’m sorry to disturb you. If you could, though, please keep the noise to a minimum.” He turned and walked off, mumbling, “Oh, how very embarrassing.”  
Dean shut the door with a click, and latched it.  
Laurel brushed her hair out of her face, as she laughed and came back to sit on the bed.  
“That was perfect!” Dean was smiling from ear to ear as he scratched the back of his head in amazement. This made his whole chest flex and Laurel had to divert her eyes for the second time since she had met Dean.  
“Now where were we?” Laurel had calmed down considerably and now sat on the bed, knees drawn to her face.  
“Me saving your ass, from… something.” Dean sat across from her in a kitchen chair.  
Laurel just looked at him, brow furrowed.  
“Does this have anything to do with the dizzy spells I’ve been getting lately?” Laurel questioned, twirling a lock of her dark hair around her finger.  
“It may be, Laur. You really seemed like you were possessed. Sam called me frantically because you apparently just dropped right in front of him in the kitchen.  
I came and got you so your sister wouldn’t see, but you were convulsing almost the whole way here and after the fact.”  
Laurel thought quickly, “I have seizures?” She knew Dean wouldn’t believe that.  
“No, something was inside you. You started to speak in this language that I have never heard before. But it was so beautiful.  
It drew me in, and I almost got lost in its translation.” Dean was mulling the words she had spoken over and over in his head.  
“What did it sound like?” Laurel was curious.  
“I don’t think I could even recreate it, but I can maybe write down some of it for you.” Dean grabbed a pen and hotel stationary off the night stand and began to scribble some rough transliterations.  
He handed it to Laurel for examination.  
Even though the spelling was off, Laurel immediately recognized the language.  
“Familiar?” Dean questioned, studying the look on Laurel’s face.  
“No.” She responded folding up the piece of paper, “I can try researching it tomorrow.”  
“But tomorrow is Beltane, or whatever. That Victoria woman invited all of us, remember? It will be a good time for us to investigate since everyone else will be celebrating.” Dean reminded Laurel.  
“I may be late tomorrow. I have some business to attend to in town.” Laurel lied yet again to Dean. This seemed to be a reoccurring thing with her.  
“Well, as long as I don’t have to put up with all those witches alone…I know Sammy will be stuck to your sister like a fly in honey.” Dean chuckled a little.  
“Yeah, wouldn’t want you to have to go in alone. I’ll try to make it there as soon as I can.” Laurel stood from the bed, grabbed her AC/DC shirt and shoved the folded up piece of paper Dean had handed her inside it.  
“You leaving?” Dean looked puzzled.  
“Yeah, I’m really tired. I guess whatever went on took a lot out of me. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Laurel shot Dean a prompting glance.  
“Sure.” Dean looked a bit down trodden.  
“Night, Dean.” Without thinking, Laurel bent down and kissed Dean goodnight.  
She missed her mark however and instead of kissing his cheek gently, she caught part of his lips in her hurry to get out the door.  
Both of them drew in a sharp breath and Laurel jolted upright.  
“Night,” And with that Laurel was out the door so fast Dean didn’t even have time to respond.

* * *

Laurel snuck quietly up the fire escape and through the French doors.  
It was only midnight, and Laurel figured Sam and Lilianna might still be out, but from the sounds that were seeping under the crack of Lilianna’s door, Laurel knew better.  
She rolled her eyes at this and took her time making her way back to the bedroom.  
Laurel poured herself a glass of water and entered her bathroom.  
She needed to see how her arm was doing.  
Slowly, Laurel peeled off the bandage to reveal entirely fresh skin, and a very thin pink scar that ran from wrist to elbow.  
“You sure did a number on me, Dean.” She mumbled, running cold water over the fresh skin.  
Laurel decided to leave it unwrapped for the night and give it a chance to breathe.  
She was exhausted any way, and didn’t feel up to making her now healed wound look “presentable.”

As Laurel tucked herself into bed, she mulled over the accidental kiss that she had planted on Dean.  
She hadn’t given him any time to respond to it, and ran out of the hotel room like a dog with its tail between its legs.  
Laurel wasn’t even so sure how she felt about it. It wasn’t deliberate, and the kiss on the cheek was supposed to be a friendly thankful gesture and nothing more.  
What was Laurel getting herself into?

 

* * *

‘The candles cast a haunting glow in the alcove that she lay in. The warm May evening caused small beads of sweat to form on her soft skin.  
She scanned the room through the horned mask that she wore. Dried flowers lay in bundles around the stone table she lay on. Her surroundings smelled of dragon’s blood and rose and she could hear drums in the distance.  
She looked down at her body. She was clad in next to nothing. Her back was bare and so were her legs and arms. Wrapped around her was the softest forest green fabric.  
How had she gotten here? Where was she even?  
And then she saw him.  
The Horned God.  
He walked silently up to her, shirtless with chest glistening. A mask adorned his face, complete with large ram horns.  
His body seemed familiar to her, but she couldn’t exactly place it.  
He said nothing to her, but he climbed atop the stone table she was laying on and slowly crept between her legs.  
Her heart was pounding in her ears. Who was this man? Why was he so familiar?  
He bent down over her and opened his mouth to speak.  
What she heard was not his voice, but a familiar tune she had frequently heard.  
It grew louder and louder…and louder.’

Laurel awoke abruptly to the sound of her phone ringing at high volume.  
She groaned and rolled over, blindly patting the night stand for her phone. She found it and answered groggily.  
“Hello?” Laurel’s voice was hoarse.  
“Are you ok, Laurel?” It was Dean.  
“You woke me up.” Laurel sat up in bed, yawning loudly.  
“You do know that it’s almost noon, right?” Dean sounded unsure.  
“WHAT?” Laurel leapt from the bed, almost dropping the phone as she did so, “Why the hell didn’t any one wake me?”  
“I have no idea. Sam and Lilianna are already at the Coven grounds. I figured you were out attending to that business you mentioned.” Dean sounded as if he didn’t believe Laurel’s excuse.  
“Oh, yeah, that. I guess I really don’t have time for it now.” Laurel balanced the phone on her shoulder as she hopped around on one leg, trying to put her pants on.  
“Well, get yourself ready. I’m going to come pick you up.” Dean responded casually.  
“I can drive myself, Dean.” Laurel snapped as she walked out of her bedroom and straight into the bathroom.  
“Of course you can, I was just trying to be a gentleman.” Dean pffted into the receiver.  
“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to be so short. My head is in the clouds.” Laurel turned on the shower and walked back into her bedroom to grab a towel.  
“What’s on your mind?” Dean questioned, almost sounding concerned.  
“It was just a strange dream. Almost as if I’d been there before. There was this man…his body was so familiar.” Laurel’s voice got quiet as she relayed what her mind had seemingly fabricated.  
Dean didn’t really know how to respond. The tone of her voice gave him goose bumps.  
“Go ahead and get ready, Laurel. I’ll be over in thirty to get you.” Dean’s rough voice popped Laurel’s dream bubble.  
“Oh, yeah. I’m getting ready to hop in the shower.” Laurel wondered if she said too much.  
“See you in a bit.” Dean hung up the phone and left Laurel standing there staring at herself in the mirror. The girl that stared back at her looked different. Darker. More sultry.  
Who was she?

 

* * *

“Laurel?” Dean’s voice rang out through the empty apartment  
“Back here, Dean!” Laurel called out from her bedroom.  
Dean entered the room to find Laurel crouched down in the corner of the room, rifling through a pile of clothing.  
“I can’t seem to find my favorite necklace. I think I left it in the pocket of a pair of my pants.” Laurel stood and turned to face Dean, arms outstretched in frustration. She let them fall to her sides and huffed.  
Dean’s jaw dropped.  
Laurel was done up like Dean had never seen her before.  
She wore a floor length tiered skirt in a deep green that hugged her hips and cascaded to the floor like a waterfall. Her upper body was cinched into a deep purple corset, creating an overly exaggerated hourglass figure. Her hair was pinned up in messy swirls and what wasn’t pinned up lay in loose curls that fell past her shoulders. The makeup she wore was dark and sensual, making the color of her eyes stand out in contrast.  
Dean was completely speechless.  
“Is there something wrong, Dean?” Laurel’s expression was completely confused.  
“Not at all. You look beautiful, Laurel.” Dean blushed at his own compliment.  
“Thank you.” Laurel beamed back at Dean.  
“No problem.” Dean wasn’t sure what to say after that.  
“There’s my necklace!” Laurel exclaimed, hurriedly brushing past Dean to her bookshelf on the other side of the room.  
Laurel left behind a trail of a dark musky perfume that smelled like pomegranate and amber.  
Dean’s mind was reeling. That ache arose in him that he had felt when he first met Laurel. That emotion was there again. What was it?  
“Ready to go, Dean?” Laurel fastened a necklace around her neck that draped down the front of her corset, ending in a beautiful blue green crystal.  
“Yeah. Sam called me right before I got here. Apparently they have already started some of the festivities. I can’t really say that I’m excited about this.” Dean hung his head low and began to walk out of the bedroom.  
“I promise, I won’t let them sacrifice you tonight.” Laurel giggled.  
“Not funny.” Dean spat as the two exited the apartment and made their way to the Impala.

 

* * *

“Laurel!” Lilianna waved her sister down as her and Dean wandered through the grounds, looking for familiar faces.  
“You look lovely, Lili.” Laurel smiled at her sister who was dressed from head to toe in a lush crimson colored gown. She had a large red Gerbera daisy pinned in her dark cropped hair.  
“Thank you, my love. You look absolutely divine yourself.” Lilianna affectionately hugged her sister.  
Sam was standing close to Lili, dressed nicely in dark colored slacks and a light button up shirt. He looked so handsome and complimented Lilianna perfectly.  
Dean, however looked his usual self; black t-shirt and jeans, but this time he opted out of his military style jacket. He shot nervous glances around him, his hands shoved deeply in his pockets and his shoulders raised as if telling everyone not to come too close.

“Laur, can I talk to you for a second?” Lilianna pulled her sister away from the brothers for a moment.  
“Victoria is looking for you. She wants to prepare you for the ritual.” Lilianna whispered so neither Sam nor Dean could hear.  
“Now? It’s only 1:30; the ritual won’t start till night fall.” Laurel glanced over at Dean, who looked even more uncomfortable than before; a group of half dressed women had come too close to him and were dancing in circles, whooping and laughing.  
“I know, but Victoria likes to be prepared.” Lilianna rolled her eyes.  
“I promised Dean I wouldn’t leave him alone…” Laurel’s voice trailed off.  
“Does he need to be babysat? I’m sure we can occupy him.” Lilianna giggled.  
“If you only knew,” Laurel whispered under her breath, “I guess I can leave him alone for a bit. If he asks, tell him I went to look for the bathroom or something.”  
Lilianna nodded and Laurel headed off to find Victoria.

 

“Where the hell is that damn girl?” Victoria screeched, pacing back and forth in her chambers.  
“She’ll be here, darling. You know she wouldn’t ever let her sister down.” Horus sat on a nearby couch, sipping a glass of red wine.  
“She needs to be prepared, fully prepared for tonight. This is our only chance and I can’t have anything go wrong!” Victoria began vigorously brushing her hair in front a long ornate mirror.  
“Calm down. You can’t let yourself become hysterical. This night is special. You need to keep your head level so you can receive your gifts.” Horus finished his glass and stood to walk over to Victoria.  
At that moment a dark skinned girl appeared in the door way.  
“She’s here, mistress.” She bowed out of the door way as Laurel took her place.  
“Laurel! Do come in.” Victoria glided over to Laurel with arms wide open.  
Laurel walked in the room slowly, trying to eye Horus discreetly. She didn’t want him to have any part in this, but if what he had said a few days ago had been true, there was no way she could avoid him. She was just going to have to do this, no matter how much it might mess with her head.  
“Sit, sit. We have so much to discuss in so little time.” Victoria pulled out a particularly fancy chair for Laurel to take a seat in.  
Victoria circled Laurel after she sat and came to stand behind her. She raked her bejeweled fingers through Laurel’s loose curls.  
“Don’t be anxious, love.” Victoria responded to Laurel’s nervous breathing. “Tonight will change your life; I promise.”

 

“Where’d Laurel go?” Dean questioned himself out loud. He had been so wrapped up in keeping himself calm and out of the way of the ‘witches’ that he hadn’t realized that Laurel was nowhere to be seen.  
“She went to find a bathroom. I’m sure she’ll be back in a bit.” Lilianna had heard the nervous tone in Dean’s voice.  
“She promised she wouldn’t let them sacrifice me.” Dean mumbled, staring around aimlessly.  
“What?” Lilianna thankfully hadn’t heard Dean’s comment.  
“Nothing.” Dean wandered off towards a break in the festivities, where not a soul was in sight.

 

“Hey,” Laurel had snuck up behind Lilianna unintentionally and startled her so badly that she let out a muffled yelp.  
“Good Goddess, Laurel, you scared the hell out of me!” She exclaimed, holding her hand to her heart.  
“Sorry.” Laurel seemed to be out of breath as she stood there before her sister, wide eyed.  
“Everything ok?” Lilianna queried, noting Laurel’s slight anxiety.  
“I’m fine; just a little nervous that’s all. Victoria wants me to meet her in the main ritual tent about half an hour before the actual ritual starts so she can prepare me. This whole ordeal is rather nerve wracking.” Laurel brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and sighed.  
“I know, hunny, but this is such a blessing. You’ll come out of this a changed witch.” Lilianna grinned at her sister.  
“So, they keep telling me. Anyway, where’s Dean?” Laurel looked around her for any sign of the older brother.  
“Uh, come to think of it, I don’t really know. He was just here a minute ago, but I guess he wandered off. Sam is over there talking to Rhiannon and Seraph about Beltane ritual practices. Maybe he saw where he went.” Lilianna felt a little sheepish; she was supposed to be keeping an eye on Dean while Laurel was gone.  
“I don’t want to bother Sam; I’ll just go look for him myself.” Laurel shrugged her shoulders and headed off in the direction she thought Dean might have headed; the direction where no one seemed to celebrating in.

 

“Feeling a bit uncomfortable?” Laurel came up behind Dean, startling him.  
“Jesus Christ, don’t sneak up on me like that. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be this paranoid about being around a bunch of witches?” Dean huffed, wrinkling his brow and pursing his lips.  
“Actually, I don’t.” Laurel rolled her eyes.  
“You left me, you know. You said you wouldn’t do that.” Dean genuinely seemed upset.  
“Did you want me to pee in my pants, Dean?” Laurel crossed her arms awaiting an answer.  
“Yes,” Dean turned around to face away from Laurel.  
“Whatever. I can’t hold your hand all the time.” Laurel turned heel and started to walk off.  
“I didn’t know hand holding was part of the deal; I would have made you feel even worse for leaving me alone for so long.” Dean jogged up alongside Laurel.  
“Let’s just get back to Lilianna and Sam and try to enjoy ourselves.” Laurel smirked.  
“If you could call this enjoyable.” Dean mumbled under his breath.

 

* * *

The hours that passed before the ritual began were fairly lighthearted.  
Dean had calmed down considerably and actually seemed to be enjoying himself as he listened to a group of men play a cover of Zepplin’s Ramble On.  
At around 7:30 Laurel quietly excused herself from the festivities, letting Lilianna know that she was going to get ready for her part in the ritual. She didn’t bother mentioning her exit to Dean and hoped it would take him a while to notice she was gone.

 

The main tent was filled with bustling people. Some were gathering items for the altar, while others prepared baskets of fruit and bread to put out on the main tables.  
Laurel found Victoria in the back of the tent ordering people around and giving them important tasks to do to insure that the ritual went smoothly.  
“There’s our Goddess!” She exclaimed when she saw Laurel coming towards her.  
“Come here so we can get you ready. Cecilia? Will you please get her Huntress garb from that trunk over there?” Victoria ordered the old acquaintance.  
“Nervous?” She questioned Laurel as Cecilia handed her a folded up dark green cloth.  
It was the same color as the garment Laurel had worn in her dream. It made her stomach drop just thinking about it.  
“A bit. But as you said, it’s a blessing, right?” Laurel took the garment from Victoria and unfolded it. It was the exact same dress in her dream. Laurel was prone to premonitions, but not usually to this extent. What was going to come next? The mask she had been wearing too?  
“Oh, don’t forget this, love.” Victoria handed her a horned mask adorned with oak moss and hawk feathers.  
Laurel thought she was going to choke.  
“Cecilia will help get you ready. Do hurry though, we are running a tad behind.” Victoria pushed Laurel in Cecilia’s direction.

 

Fifteen minutes passed and Laurel returned to Victoria’s side, barefoot and completely dressed in her new attire. She was shaking slightly and she hoped no one would notice.  
“It’s time. Are you ready to accept the great Innana?” Victoria’s voice sounded deep and velvety smooth, almost sensual with this question.  
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Laurel had no idea how blatantly true the question asked of her would be.

 

* * *

“Blessed members of the Coven and honored guests, welcome to this, our wondrous Beltane ritual!” Victoria stood atop a large stone stage, arms raised. At this welcome the whole grounds burst into calls of joy and resounding applause.  
“Here we celebrate our fertile mother Earth and the abundance that she brings. We ready the fields and our bodies to accept life and love. Tonight, the Horned God shall hunt and bring the Spring Huntress to him, becoming one with her in divine unity. Let the celebration begin!” As soon as Victoria finished her introduction, drums could be heard pounding in a deep bass as wood flutes played their alluring melody.  
“I present to you, the fertility Goddess Inanna. Our patroness and our guide, in her human embodiment. Praise be Inanna and all her gifts!” Victoria called out to the crowd and they responded with, “Praise be Inanna!”  
With that introduction came Laurel’s entrance. She was almost shaking violently and Victoria stepped back behind the stage and led her forward.  
“Strength, my goddess, have strength and do not let fear control you.” Victoria took Laurel’s hand and led her forward, out onto the stage for all to see.  
When the crowd caught sight of Laurel an amazing sound arouse from them. They were screaming and banging drums, shaking bells, and whistling. She was beyond beautiful to them.

Dean stood out in the crowd, staring mystified at the girl that was the pinnacle of the celebration. Something primal stirred in him then and he wanted to be with this girl.  
A scene flashed in his head for a split second.  
The girl was laying atop a great stone altar as he crept up to her, clad in what only seemed to be a loincloth, a great horned mask upon his face.  
What was going on? He quickly shook the image from his mind.  
“These witches are starting to affect my brain.” He spoke to himself quietly.  
He looked over to see his brother with his arms around Lilianna and wide smile upon his face. Lilianna was yelling up at the stage and beaming as if the girl that stood up there, faceless and nameless, was someone that she should be very proud of.  
But there was no Laurel. She had left him alone again. He decided that he couldn’t keep her by his side and this was evident by the fact that she was nowhere to be found.

 

On the stage, Victoria commanded everyone’s attention again by calling out,  
“And now the Horned god shall come for his bride for she is ripe with fertility and ready to accept her groom.” Victoria held her hand up to her right to alert everyone’s attention to a grassy hill where a bonfire was lit.  
There in front of the fire was a man, half dressed in a loincloth adorned with a mask that boasted great ram’s horns.  
Dean’s jaw dropped at the sight of this. Only moments before had he seen the same image, except the man that he saw was himself, and not this golden skinned God that stood before them.  
The crowd burst into applause again as the Horned God descended from the hill and the Huntress was led off the stage and out of sight.  
What was to come after this no one would witness, but everyone knew of the rite.  
Dean, however, was left dumbfounded by the display he had just witnessed. If he only knew what was in store for the Huntress that he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

 

* * *

Laurel lay in her Huntress garb atop a large stone Altar in an alcove set back from the festivities of Beltane. It looked just as she had seen it in her dream: the dim candle light that cast haunting shadows over everything, the musky smell of dragon’s blood mixed with floral rose, and the bouquets of flowers that surrounded her where she lay.  
Her breath came in uneasy gasps as she waited for the Horned God; this was all too similar to what she had seen in her dreams.  
For some reason, in her panic, Laurel’s mind kept going to Dean. She had left him all alone amidst people that he feared and hated simultaneously, whether these emotions were irrational or not. She knew that he’d be upset with her after all this; she promised she wouldn’t leave him alone.  
Laurel tilted her head upwards to stare at the ceiling. There was a break in it a few feet wide, and she could see most of the full moon and a handful of stars that were sprinkled over it.  
She longed to be outside in the May eve air, away from this commitment she had made and closer to Dean, to her promise.  
As she stared upwards trying to dissolve her unease in the situation, she heard a rustling by the entrance to the alcove and quickly diverted her attention to it.  
There stood a man, clad in nothing but a tribal looking loincloth and a ram’s horned mask. His skin was glistening with sweat in the candlelight and Laurel thought she could see the expression on his face, even under the mask. It was hunger.  
This, however, was not the same man she had seen in her dream. The man that stood before her was dark skinned, more narrow and not quite as tall.  
He walked over to her slowly, silently, sizing her up as he got closer.  
Laurel clambered to sit up before he got to her, but he was quicker, and gently pushed her shoulders back till she was laying flat on the altar.  
He gripped the side of the altar and pushed himself up, lifting his long legs over Laurel’s lower torso.  
His skin felt hot to the touch and he smelled all too familiar. Before she could say anything he spoke.  
“You didn’t believe me when I told you I was to be the Horned God.” The words came out thick and velvety smooth.  
The sound of his voice made Laurel almost leap out of her skin.  
Horus.  
“Victoria didn’t want me to mention it to anyone, but when I saw you in the cabin a few days ago I couldn’t resist making you aware of our night.” Laurel was watching his lips move, he annunciated every syllable, over exaggerating every word. ‘Our night.” Rang out in Laurel’s head.  
“Do you remember the nights we had, Laurel. The tantric energy that flowed from our bodies was indescribable, more than magical.” Horus bent down to speak into Laurel’s ear. His breath, just like his words were soft and smooth, full of sensuality.  
Laurel’s body erupted into goose bumps. She hated Horus now more than she ever had. How could he deliberately stir up these lost emotions. The feelings that she had thrown away so long ago, promising herself that’d she’d never give into them again.  
And yet here she lay, half naked and bare to Horus who had complete dominance over her this night. She may have promised Lilianna that’d she’d be the Goddess tonight, but she never committed to this.  
“You’re quivering, love. Do you want me that badly?” Horus trailed his fingers up Laurel’s thigh, over her hips, across her ribcage, and stopped at her collar bone.  
She shook almost violently. Little did Horus know that her shaking wasn’t caused by the sensation of his fingers, but by the anger that arose in her.  
She wanted to kill Horus at this moment, destroy him like she had so many otherworldly creatures, but she couldn’t. Something held her fast, and it wasn’t her conscience.  
‘Feel me. Take me in. We will become one. You are blessed.’ The phrase flowed through Laurel’s mind like thick fog. It clouded her judgment and bid her to obey.  
Horus leaned down and gently kissed Laurel’s collarbone. She let him and elicited a quiet moan as his lips met her skin.  
“Everything will be perfect, my love. Just relax and accept your fate.” Horus hissed, covering her mouth with his lips and kissing her deeply.  
And she obeyed; her body relaxed and became one with the cool stone altar she lay upon. She extended her arms and wrapped them tightly around Horus’s neck, pulling him down on top of her.  
“Take me; I am yours.”

 

* * *

“You alright, Dean?” Sam came to stand close to his brother after Lilianna had joined a circle of Coveners banging on drums and chanting.  
“I don’t know; something just doesn’t feel right, Sammy.” Dean’s brow was furrowed and he was staring around the festival, looking for something.  
“Laurel will be back soon. Lilianna said she had some business to attend to with old friends. Don’t worry so much.” Sam reassuringly placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.  
“She promised she wouldn’t leave me, Sammy. I just have this odd feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is wrong.” Dean sighed.  
“Yeah it’s called paranoia. Nothing is going to happen to any of us, especially Laurel. These people aren’t like the others we’ve dealt with. They are kind and understanding of the earth. No bad ju-ju here.” Sam looked at his brother’s expression; it hadn’t changed.  
“I’m not so sure about that. Laurel and I found a strange circle the other day. It was surrounded by Enochian sigils. Laurel said something had been summoned there; something evil.” Dean shook his head; his mind was becoming cloudy.  
“Why didn’t you say anything, Dean?” Sam scolded.  
“I don’t know, just kinda slipped my mind.”  
“Something like that really would have been helpful to know.” Sam was irate.  
“You really haven’t been very helpful yourself. You’ve pretty much spent your whole time with Lilianna and not focusing on the case.” Dean hated when Sam belittled him for things; this time he was just as guilty.  
“I’m sorry, Dean. There’s just something about Lili. I can honestly say that I don’t think I have felt this way about anyone since…since Jess.” Sam’s eyes were far away now. Dean knew how it still troubled his brother over Jessica’s death. Azazel had taken her just as he had taken their mother.  
“I know, Sammy. I don’t blame you.” Dean was beginning to understand how Sam felt. He had never really been in love before, so he wasn’t sure how the emotions felt, but lately he had begun to wonder.  
“Any way,” Sam cut into Dean’s thoughts, “What do you think was being evoked?”  
“Could be anything. Laurel said she smelled sulfur, but I didn’t smell anything. That girl seems to sense things that most others don’t, though.” Dean was now really wondering himself what might have been summoned there.  
“So, it’s demonic then. And you said the sigils were Enochian?” Sam queried.  
“According to Laurel, yeah.” Dean responded, scanning his surroundings again, looking for her.  
“Dean, did you see or smell anything?” Sam seemed a little suspicious.  
“No…do you not trust Laurel?” Dean was offended.  
“I do, Dean. I’m just not sure if she is actually telling us everything. I don’t doubt that she saw the signs or smelled the sulfur, but why weren’t you aware of any of it too? I’m beginning to think that Laurel is more than a hunter.” Sam was in deep thought.  
“What are you getting at, Sammy?” Dean had a funny feeling in his gut.  
“I think she may be a witch, Dean.”

 

* * *

 

Laurel seemed to have no control over her body. She was aware of what she was doing, but no matter how hard she tried to stop herself, she couldn’t.  
“We’ve waited so long for you to come back, Laurel.” Horus’s voice was a husky whisper as he hovered over Laurel, slowly unwrapping the garment that covered her pale skin.  
“And you made it so easy for us. We knew that once you caught wind of the coven disappearances, you’d rush home to make sure that Lilianna wasn’t harmed.  
Everything seemed to fall into place after that. Your sister so desperately wanted this for you,” He chuckled at what he had just said, “Well, she wanted you to be the embodiment of Inanna, but she had no idea what she was getting you in to.”  
Horus had finally gotten down the last wrap of the cloth and pulled it free from Laurel’s petite body, leaving her entirely exposed.  
“You will be the embodiment of Inanna, but Inanna isn’t who you would think.” Horus extracted a long dagger from beneath one of the eaves in the stone altar.  
“Inanna is a demon, my lovely Laurel. A goddess in her own right. Apparently she has been planning this for you since you were a child, and we were chosen as her children to help her fulfill your destiny.” Horus held the dagger up to Laurel’s sternum.  
Laurel’s mind was screaming. This is what she had been feeling for the past few days. The dizzy spells, the whispering sounds that arose in her ears, the feminine voice she kept hearing; even the rather docile semi-possession she had experienced the night before.  
It had all been planned since she was a child. But when?  
Azazel.  
It all seemed to fall into place now. She had been chosen, like Azazel and the voice that she now knew to be Inanna, had told her. She was chosen for something she couldn’t even fathom, or so she thought.  
Horus began to carve into Laurel’s skin. She screamed in pain as the blade ran across her flesh and a searing throbbing was left behind. It was like no normal pain she had ever felt.  
He kept carving, drawing symbols down Laurel’s collarbone and over onto her ribcage.  
Laurel struggled to pull free from the invisible grip that was holding her down, but to no avail.  
Horus kept transcribing the symbols down her stomach and onto her hips. He then moved to carve a single symbol on the palm of each of her hands and the tops of her feet.  
Laurel ceased to scream after the first few of the symbols had been etched into her skin. Something wouldn’t let her do anything of her own accord, it even got to the point where she couldn’t feel. Laurel was still very aware though, watching Horus as he sadistically brutalized her body.  
Laurel strained to see what was being written all over her body in her own blood. She caught short glimpses of the palms of her hands and part of her torso.  
They were the same symbols that she had seen at the large circle in the woods.  
Whatever had been summoned there, was being summoned again now.  
“Now, my love, it is time.” Horus outstretched his arms and several people entered the alcove.  
Victoria was in the lead, followed by all of the coveners that had supposedly disappeared, and Cecilia who dragged in at the end.  
“We’ve been waiting so long, Laurel. Watching you as you grew in the coven. We knew that you were the one the great Inanna spoke of. You have the Sight, the power, and that little uncanny ability to heal yourself so quickly. You were the perfect body for our mistress.” Victoria moved a sweat soaked lock of hair from Laurel’s eyes.  
“It was all planned, my dear. None of the people you see here were ever in harm’s way. And your sister, her part fell into place so easily. She was so willing to give you up to us.” Laurel fumed inside her head at this last statement. Lilianna had no idea what was in store for her sister and they used her naiveté to gain access to Laurel.  
“We called Inanna forth shortly before you arrived, and she has been roaming disembodied throughout Salem. We released her and now it is time to give her a proper place to dwell.” Victoria began to bind Laurel’s hands and feet to the altar.  
“It’s time, Laurel. You will be more powerful than you could ever imagine.” Victoria pulled a metal chalice from beneath her robes and set it down next to Laurel’s head.  
“Cecilia, come here. Remember that special part I promised you in the ritual?” Victoria extended a long finger and beckoned Cecilia to her.  
Cecilia was beaming as she made her way to Victoria. She was elaborately over dressed and ready to take her part in the ritual.  
Victoria positioned Cecilia close to her as the rest of the ritual members came to stand closely by.  
Horus climbed off of Laurel and stood opposite to Victoria.  
“Great Inanna, I evoke thee. Come and take your place inside of me.” Victoria’s voice rang out.  
It was not a command, but a prompt to Laurel.  
Without thinking Laurel opened her mouth and called out in a rich deep voice.  
“Great Inanna, I evoke thee. Come and take your place inside of me.”  
“Now, Cecilia, close your eyes.” Victoria whispered to the girl and she obeyed, a smile still plain on her face.  
Victoria took the dagger that lay on the altar and swiftly, in one quick movement, slit Cecilia’s throat from ear to ear. The girl gurgled and choked as she began to slump over and one of the coven members caught her quickly.  
Victoria then held the chalice to the dying girl’s throat and let the frothy red liquid that seeped from it fill up the cup.  
When it was full, they let Cecilia drop to the floor in a gasping heap where she bled out completely.  
“This sacrifice is our gift to you, Inanna.” Victoria held the chalice to the sky and began to chant quietly.  
Laurel recognized the language. The same language that was written all over her body in blood. The same language that she had spoke the night before when Dean was so desperately worried about her.  
As she recited the others followed suit and Horus lifted Laurel to an upright position as Victoria brought the chalice to her lips.  
She finished the incantation and spoke to Laurel, “Drink. Drink of Inanna. Become of Inanna. You are one with the depths.” She began to pour the blood into Laurel’s mouth and no matter how hard Laurel fought inside her body; she couldn’t stop herself from drinking, imbibing every last drop.  
A sensation then ripped through Laurel’s body. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure, of omniscience and omnipotence. She knew of things she never thought to be knowable. She could feel everything, in this world and in others.  
A scream erupted in Laurel’s throat.  
She felt her body fill up with a being so dark, that she couldn’t see. It caused her to convulse once, sharply and to fall back with a thud onto the altar.  
“It is done.” Victoria smiled as the others around her cheered.  
Their Goddess had come.

 

* * *

“I can’t believe what you’re saying.” Dean was growing angry.  
“I’m just saying, think about it. All of her occult knowledge far surpasses what you and I know. Lilianna acts funny every time I mention Laurel in regards to her acceptance of Lilianna being a witch. She’s been gone half the night, Dean. I have this feeling that’s she’s partaking in some part of the ritual secretly.” Sam was pacing now.  
“Come to think of it, Sammy, she kept getting really defensive any time I spoke negatively about witches…and her mother was one.” Dean finished his sentence when a thought struck him.  
The girl that was playing the Goddess in the Great Rite had been so familiar to him. Could it have been Laurel?  
“Where’s Lilianna, Sam?” Dean spat.  
“She went to circle with some friends, why?” Sam arched a brow at Dean’s harsh tone.  
“I’m going to make her tell me the truth.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lilianna faced away from Dean, arms crossed.  
“Why were you hiding this from us?” Dean accused, voice raised.  
“I’m not hiding a thing and I don’t know why you are accusing me so. Laurel doesn’t practice witchcraft, never has and never will.” Lilianna was beginning to sweat. She hated to lie, especially to Sam and even Dean,  
“Why are you lying to us, Lili?” Sam looked hurt and confused.  
Lilianna hated seeing him this way, but she couldn’t break her promise to her sister.  
She kept her eyes unfocused and stared at Sam.  
“Lili, please.” Sam begged, reaching out to her to pull her close.  
Tears began to well in Lilianna’s eyes. She just couldn’t keep this from Sam.  
“She made me promise, Sam! Laurel tends to be very secretive about her craft and didn’t want me to tell anyone. That’s why I sent her and Dean to search outside the Coven grounds so that no one inside would recognize her.” Lilianna began to cry.  
“But she came to the ritual tonight. Would she think no one would notice her?” Dean was yelling.  
“She did it for me, Dean. The High Priestess begged me to convince Laurel to be the embodiment of the Goddess. I thought it would be a blessing for Laurel and it had been so long since she had participated in any Coven ritual.” Lilianna buried her face in Sam’s chest.  
Dean had been right. The girl that he had seen secretly had been Laurel under that mask that she wore.  
He was furious now.  
“Where the hell is she?” Dean brought his face close to Lilianna’s  
“Calm down, Dean…now.” Sam growled, moving Lilianna away from him.  
“She went to perform the Great Rite.” Lilianna tried to calm herself.  
“And what exactly is that?” Dean tried to keep his cool now.  
“It involves her lying with the Horned God.”  
Dean saw red now. Laurel was somewhere in the grounds giving her body freely to the masked man that had come down from the hill. The same man that he had caught a glimpse of himself being.  
“I’m going to find her.” Dean turned heel to run off in search of Laurel when he almost collided with someone.  
“Why so angry, Dean?” Laurel stood before Dean now, looking very much unlike herself.  
Her neatly pinned hair now lay around her chest in soft waves. Her eyes were smoldering in the light of the bonfires lit around them, and she was dressed in a thin white dress that fell just above her knees.  
“Where the hell have you been?” Dean spoke between clenched teeth.  
“Attending to some very important business.” Laurel’s voice came out in an almost melodic tone.  
“You’re secret’s out, woman.” Dean wanted to scream, but he kept his voice calm.  
“So, Lilianna told you? I didn’t think she’d keep my secret very long.”  
“Laur!” Lilianna blurted, embarrassed.  
“You never were really good at keeping secrets.” Laurel narrowed her eyes at her sister.  
Lilianna shrunk back like a scolded child and hid herself closely to Sam.  
“You want to talk about this, Dean? Like civil adults?” Laurel was too cool about this.  
“Sure. Let’s go somewhere private and discuss how much I despise you right now.” Dean gripped Laurel by the hand and roughly pulled her away from Sam and Lilianna.

 

“I fucking knew it! I never liked you from the beginning.” Dean and Laurel stood outside the coven grounds in a circle, beneath the glistening full moon.  
“Then why are you even discussing this with me, Dean? Why did you soften and let me hitch a ride with you? Or take care of me when you thought I was possessed? Because despite the fact that I am something that you would normally fear, you can’t keep yourself away from me.” Laurel was knelt beneath a tall hardwood tree, staring into the darkness.  
She was right. No matter how hard Dean tried to deny it in his mind, she was absolutely right.  
“Why didn’t you just tell me then, instead of keeping it from me?” Dean came to sit in front of Laurel on the moist earth.  
“Because you hated what I really was. You had no problem with me being a hunter, and that part is true, Dean. But the thought of me being a witch makes your blood boil.” Laurel’s tone was harsh, but it began to soften as she stared at Dean’s face.  
‘Make him yours, Laurel. He wants you. Your power intimidates him, but it also draws him. Take him.’ Inanna’s voice commanded Laurel inside her own head. An internal struggle had begun.  
Laurel fought the voice inside her head.  
“I hate witches, Laurel, but I hate liars even more. If you just told me, maybe I wouldn’t have to walk away.” There was something terribly sad in Dean’s eyes.  
He stood, took one final look at Laurel, and walked away from the clearing they were sitting in, leaving Laurel all alone.

 

The walk back to the Coven grounds was a slow one for Dean. He had so many emotions ripping through his body. Fear, anger, sorrow…love. He shook his head trying to clear these emotions.  
He could see the bonfires of the ritual when a voice rang out behind him.  
“Dean.”  
Dean spun around reflexively, ready to fight.  
There standing in front of him was the angel Castiel.  
“We need to talk.” Castiel had his usual stoic expression.  
“Not now, Cas. It really isn’t a good time.” Dean turned back around to continue his trek back to Sam.  
“Now is a good time, Dean. Something isn’t right here.” Castiel broke even with Dean’s stride and commanded his attention.  
“You’re telling me.” Dean mumbled, still walking.  
“We’ve been watching, Dean. There seems to be some sort of demonic activity going on here, but we can’t quite figure it out.” Castiel was silhouetted in the dark next to Dean.  
“I know, Cas. It’s nothing Sam and I can’t handle.”  
“I think it’s more than that.” Castiel stopped and stared up at the sky.  
“What are you talking about?” Dean was curious now.  
“There’s a higher level demon here somewhere. I can feel it. But I can’t seem to find out where it is. It has somehow slipped under our radar, so to speak.” Castiel seemed disturbed by this.  
Dean tried to brush off Castiel’s concern; he always seemed to underestimate the brothers.  
“If I figure out something, I’ll call you.” Dean’s sarcasm was grating.  
“If you wish, Dean. Just keep an eye out. I can’t help but feel that it’s looking for you.” Castiel’s tone was dark.  
Dean looked down for a split second to mull over what Castiel had said and when he looked up, Castiel was gone, nowhere to be found.

 

“Where’s Laurel?” Sam inquired as Dean came out of the woods alone.  
“Somewhere out in the woods at one of the circles. I really don’t care either way.” Dean brushed past Sam and kept walking.  
“Dean, you just left her out there?” Sam couldn’t fathom why Dean would do such a thing.  
“She’s a witch, Sam. I’m sure she can ward off any demons or whatever may be out there. It’s all probably her fault any way.” Dean was now being entirely irrational.  
Sam called out to Dean to stop, sit still for a minute so they could talk, but Dean wouldn’t have it.  
“Dean, what the hell is wrong?” Sam yelled out to his brother, only a few yards behind him.  
This question sent Dean over the top. He had had it.  
He whirled around angrily and came storming to stand in front of a bewildered Sam.  
“You want to know what’s wrong, Sammy? You really want to know?” He was inches away from Sam’s face, huffing angrily.  
All Sam could do was nod at his brother.  
“She’s a godamned witch! I don’t know why I didn’t see it; maybe I’m getting rusty in my old age.” Dean ruffled his hair that was now drenched with sweat and kept speaking, “I-I cared for her, Sammy. I took her in, I got her to where she needed to go, I forgave her for lying to me about why she was coming here, and it didn’t take me very long to believe that she was a true hunter. And this is how she repays me? Hiding the fact that she’s…she’s.” He couldn’t finish his sentence.  
“I despise her. “  
Sam began to open his mouth to say something pertinent when Dean cut him off.  
“Don’t even try and bring up, Lilianna. In my eyes she’s a fluffy fucking bunny compared to Laurel. Laurel plays dirty, Sam. She’s a hunter. And if she hunts dirty, then she’s going to cast dirty. End of discussion.” Dean was pacing hotly now, staring at his feet as he went and mumbling under his breath.  
Sam was speechless. He knew there was nothing he could say to change Dean’s mind and he knew why.  
Dean had trusted Laurel, something he didn’t do often with anyone, aside from Sam.  
He felt betrayed, used, and let down; and those were three things that Dean never handled well. Then came Dean’s emotions. Another thing Dean had never handled well. Sam wasn’t quite sure of his true feelings for Laurel, but he knew that they ran deeper than just a kinship with another hunter.  
“Dean…” Sam began, when his brother cut him off again,  
“Cas stopped by for a visit.” Dean was still staring at the ground.  
“You talked to Cas?” Sam was bewildered.  
“He seems to think there is demonic activity here too. High level stuff. He told me that whatever it is may be looking for me. For some reason it’s fallen under angelic radar and they have no idea what’s going on.” Dean looked slightly worried, which scared Sam.  
“We need to be careful, Dean. If Cas took time out of his busy day to warn you, this could be something bigger than we expected. A lot bigger.” Sam’s brain was in overdrive trying to think of all the possibilities of what could be going on.  
“Yeah, I know.” Dean was now staring up into the clear night sky, wondering what he was missing in all this.  
“I want to go back to the hotel. This night has ceased to be fun.” Dean’s statement was dripping with sarcasm.  
“Let me see if I can find Lilianna. She’ll have to give Laurel a ride home.” Sam wandered off into the throbbing crowd of merry makers and disappeared, leaving Dean alone under the moon.

 

“I can’t believe you’re letting me drive.” Sam was amazed as he sped down the long stretch of road back into Salem.  
“I’m too angry to drive, Sammy.” Dean was staring aimlessly out the window.  
“Laurel found her way back to the Coven grounds just fine, by the way. She was with Lilianna when I found her. I just told them you weren’t feeling well and needed to get some rest.” He filled Dean in, even though he knew that Dean didn’t care.  
“That’s nice.” Was all he replied.  
The rest of the trip back to the Hawthorne held no conversation and the brothers sat in complete silence. 

(*)

 

Laurel burst through the door of Lilianna’s apartment.  
“I don’t want to talk right now, Lilianna. I’m not in the mood.” She pulled a glass from the cabinet above the stove and slammed it shut before pouring herself an ice cold glass of water.  
“I just wanted to know how things went. You seem really upset and I’m worried about you.” Lilianna tried to gain her sister’s attention from the other side of the tilted glass that Laurel held to her mouth.  
“Well, I’ll give you the short version. Horus was the Horned God. The End.” Laurel slammed her glass down on the counter, and stared angrily at her sister.  
“Oh my God, Laurel, I had no idea.” Lilianna was almost speechless.  
“You know, it’s really not a big deal. Horus was a complete gentleman about it.” Laurel’s tone was harsh and sneering.  
“I-I’m sorry Laur.” Lilianna couldn’t do anything else, but apologize.  
“I’m not really worried about it, Lili. I’m going to go to bed; that encounter took a lot out of me.” Without waiting for a response from her sister she turned heel and stormed into her bedroom, slamming the door as loud as she could.  
“Oh great Goddess, what have I done?” Lilianna just stood there in shock, trying to choke back tears. Her sister was hurt and she felt that it was her fault. Little did she know how “hurt” her sister really was.

 

* * *

 

Laurel rolled over in bed to check her clock.  
It blazed 3:30 in a fiery red.  
Laurel crawled out of bed and made her way to the old fashioned window in her bedroom. She popped the lock and shoved open both sides of the window, letting in the most amazingly cool breeze she had ever felt.  
She didn’t remember much from her encounter with Horus earlier that night. Everything that had been said and done seemed to be a bad dream that, the longer she was away from it, slipped further and further into the recesses of her mind.  
What had they done together? The only thing that she really had remembered was that Horus was not the same man playing the Horned God that she had seen in her dream the night before.  
The man she had seen was taller, broader, with creamy pink skin and a narrow waist. It wasn’t Horus at all.  
Laurel lit a cigarette, even though Lilianna didn’t allow smoking inside; she couldn’t help but blame her sister partially for what had or hadn’t happened.  
Now, on top of her temporary amnesia in regards to that night, Dean was furious with her. Lilianna just couldn’t have kept her mouth shut.  
On one hand Laurel knew why; she didn’t want to lie to Sam who she had been falling fast for ever since she had met him, but on the other hand the boys now knew her secret and she would get nowhere in regards to this hunt.  
And the hunt even seemed strange to her. What were they looking for exactly? Laurel felt that she already knew, but for the life of her couldn’t remember what it may have been.  
Laurel took a long drag off her cigarette and stared out at the same moon that Dean had been staring up at only a few hours before.  
“I should have told you. But my biggest talent is keeping secrets, and who am I to not embrace my talents.” Laurel spoke to the cool night air, taking another drag.  
A sudden wave of nausea overtook Laurel. She stepped back slightly from the windowsill and tried to calm her churning stomach. Then her vision began to get fuzzy. These sensations weren’t unfamiliar to Laurel.  
Unlike the dizzy spells and the buzzing sound she had been getting lately, these were normal for Laurel to feel. She was getting a vision.  
Her head was pounding as an image came flooding into her mind’s eye.

‘Dean was sitting out in the Impala in front of the Hawthorne. He had his head in his hands. Maybe he was crying, or maybe his head was hurting too. But it was not too different from how Laurel felt.  
He was hurting. His heart was aching. All of the emotions that he vowed he’d never feel were attacking him from the inside out, eating him up.  
He looked up as he heard some people entering the hotel.  
Dean had been crying. His eyes were ringed in red and their hazel color was beyond vibrant, magnified by tears now dried.  
“You should have just told me. I wouldn’t have cared. I actually care about you more than you could ever understand. Maybe you cast a spell on me to make me feel this way, but even if this feeling isn’t real…I would rather live a lie.” Dean choked. His voice was deep and rough.  
He furrowed his brow as tears began to well up again and he brought his hands to his face once more.’

Laurel’s vision sent her sprawling to the floor at its commencement. She had never had a vision knock the wind out of her like that.  
Instantly she began to cry too; the vision she had just witnessed was heartbreaking. She had never meant to hurt Dean in any way, but she was trying to keep herself safe.  
She knew how Dean felt about people of her kind. He didn’t seem to have an issue with Lilianna, but he had nothing invested in her. He seemed to have a lot of emotion invested towards Laurel, however.  
Laurel was going to tell him eventually, or so she had kept telling herself; she had never thought he’d find out this way.  
She slowly picked herself up off the ground and fumbled around the floor for the cigarette that had been jarred from her hand; she had burned a small hole in the carpet.  
Laurel came back to the window and tried to finish her smoke, her eyes burning from the hot tears that had began to flow.  
She desperately wanted to feel some other way. Dean’s expression in the vision was pulling at the corners of Laurel’s mind, begging her to do something to fix this.  
Laurel then came to a decision. She was going to tell him everything that she had kept from him in regards to her upbringing as a witch. He needed to know it all.  
‘Thoughts like that will only complicate things, Laurel. Just take him; he’ll give into you completely. You know he will.’  
The voice that rang through Laurel’s head had come out of nowhere. Before she had time to question the thought she had just had, she could hear AC/DC’s Back in Black muffled somewhere in the room.  
She quickly flicked her cigarette out the window and leapt onto the bed, rifling through several feather pillows and a fleece blanket before she found the phone.  
Laurel didn’t bother to look at the caller ID before she answered.  
“Hello?” Her voice sounded a bit eager.  
“I didn’t think you’d be awake…I was just going to leave a voicemail.” Dean’s voice sounded choked on the other line.  
“I can hang up if you want me to. I understand if you don’t want to speak with me.” There was a pause in her thought with no response from Dean. Laurel’s heart ached in the silence.  
“Just come downstairs, ok?” Dean hung up the phone and left Laurel sitting in a mound of pillows, confused and wondering.

 

Dean was standing propped up on the outer wall of the shop, staring at the sky again. He didn’t really look like he had in Laurel’s vision. There was no sign of crying evident on his face.  
Dean looked rather cool and composed.  
“Hey,” Laurel’s voice came out sounding small and meek. She tried to hide her vulnerability, but she was failing.  
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Dean didn’t waste any time.  
“Gee, Dean, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you hate almost everything that I stand for.” Laurel couldn’t help but snap at his question.  
“Don’t get smart with me, woman. I came clean about everything in the beginning. You seem to keep holding things back from me.” Dean shifted positions and came closer to Laurel.  
If he was as angry enough to kill Laurel for this infidelity, she knew she deserved it.  
“Dean, for the past five days since I’ve known you, I’ve listened to you go on and on about how much you hate my kind. You wish we’d never existed at all. Do you think I was just going to say, ‘Oh, hey, by the way, I’m a witch.’ No such luck, Dean.” Laurel crossed her arms, standing her ground.  
“But I wouldn’t have hurt you. I even felt bad for what I said when you told me your mother was one. I’m not so much angry about you being a witch, as I am about you lying to me about it.” Laurel could now see the hurt in Dean’s eyes again.  
“I didn’t know that. How could I have known you would have been ok with it? How do you even know if you would have? You’re just saying that now.” Laurel felt like a frustrated child. Like she was getting nowhere with her point.  
She fought back tears of anger, of fear, but she didn’t seem like she was going to win that battle.  
That’s what Dean had been looking for. That expression on Laurel’s face that showed that she cared. He could see the fear in her eyes, the fear of losing him.  
“Come here.” Dean closed his eyes briefly and outstretched his arms.  
Laurel shook her head violently, “No, you walked away from me earlier. You left me, just like everyone does. I’m supposed to the one who leaves, not everyone else.” Laurel couldn’t control herself, she desperately tried to choke back tears.  
“I shouldn’t have left you out there, it was stupid of me. I should have known better, after all these witches have been disappearing. You could have disappeared too.” Dean reprimanded himself.  
‘You know you would have been safe, Laurel. You’re with me. I’m the one everybody should be fearing.’ That voice. It was the third time Laurel had heard it since her encounter with Horus. Who was she?  
“I- I…”Laurel shook her head; she couldn’t gather her thoughts properly to speak.  
‘Let me do the talking, Laurel. Rest your weary head. I can handle Dean’ The voice rang out almost as if this disembodied woman was standing right there in front of her.  
Laurel was so tired. All the secrets, the lies, had taken a lot out of her. Maybe this voice was right. Laurel was safe with her. She’d let her speak instead.  
As if some switch had been flipped Laurel fell away and the essence of Inanna took her place.  
“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Dean. I’m fine, aren’t I?” Inanna caused Laurel’s body to move fluidly towards Dean. She ran her finger down Dean’s chest.  
The sensation that erupted from her touch made him take in a sharp breath.  
“Are you ok, Laurel?” He looked at her quizzically; this was very uncharacteristic for her.  
“I’m more than fine, now that you’re not angry at me anymore.” Laurel’s body moved at the command of Inanna, and stood on its tip toes so that Laurel’s lips could plant a soft kiss on Dean’s neck.  
Something was wrong and Dean could feel it.  
“Maybe tonight has been a bit much for you, why don’t you go back to bed.” Dean held Laurel’s body at arms-length from his own.  
“Will you come with me?” Laurel’s eyes were smoldering like they had been earlier that night when he had bumped into her after the Great Rite. What had gotten into her?  
“What?” In surprise at her question, Dean let go of Laurel and she stumbled backwards. The motion caused Inanna to be jolted from her seat in the forefront of Laurel’s mind, and to be replaced with Laurel once more.  
You’re a lot stronger than I had imagined.’ Inanna sneered in Laurel’s mind. ‘Victoria said you were strong, but that was an understatement.’  
Then it hit her. Everything that had happened earlier in the alcove came flooding back to Laurel’s mind.  
They had summoned something. This had all been planned. None of the disappearances were real; just ruses planned by Victoria and Horus to get Laurel back home.  
She had been chosen. Just like Azazel had told her as a child and just like the voice in her head kept telling her.  
Laurel wasn’t going crazy, but she felt like she was losing her grip on reality.  
What had they done to her? Laurel could now feel another presence inside her body besides her own. She was beginning to panic.  
“Dean?” It was Laurel’s voice this time, instead of the deep melodic one that had just spoken to Dean.  
“I have to go. Something doesn’t feel right.” Laurel leapt up onto the fire escape and began to scramble her way to the balcony.  
“Laurel, what’s wrong?” Dean called up to her as she peered down at him like some predatory creature, ready to pounce.  
She couldn’t tell him. Something kept her lips sealed.  
Laurel hurriedly looped her crystal necklace over her head and held it to her heart quickly. She mumbled something inaudible and outstretched her hand over the balcony.  
She let the necklace fall and Dean caught it effortlessly.  
As he looked up to ask her why she had given him the necklace, she was gone and yet again, he was alone on the sidewalk.

 

* * *

 

‘ Stop fighting me, Laurel. You should feel proud to share this human body with me. Can you even fathom the things we could accomplish?’ The sickeningly sweet female voice rang out through Laurel’s head.  
“I’m going to fight you. I’m going to keep fighting you even if it kills me.” Laurel hissed as she lay flat on her back in the bed. The voice was eating away at her sanity, causing her to constantly question what was going on.  
‘Selfish girl. You can’t have all this strength and energy for yourself! We hand-picked you from millions of children, doesn’t that mean anything to you?’ The voice berated Laurel inside her own mind.  
“I don’t give a damn if you hand-picked me or not. I’m going to ask you for the last time…who are you?” Laurel had been lying quietly in her bedroom for hours, trying to get this being to tell her who she was.  
‘You really want to know, foolish child? I am the great Inanna, and you are my vessel. Azazel chose you for me. You were so perfect, so powerful. Almost too powerful.’ The voice trailed off as Laurel heard a rustling outside her window.  
The sun hadn’t even come up, what could all the commotion be outside?  
She swung her legs over the bed side and made her way to the window sill. Peering out through the still open window she caught sight of a male figure standing out on the curb in front of the shop.  
“Come to me.” She heard a voice that sounded like silk flow up to her window. She was mesmerized by it, but she recognized that accent.  
“Come to me, Inanna.” Horus breathed in almost a sing song voice.  
Laurel tried to fight the urge that now over took her body. She wanted to leap straight out of the two story window to the sidewalk below.  
Before she could tell her body not to even thinking about it, her body leapt up into the air and straight out the window, landing with amazing agility on the concrete below.  
Any normal person might have broken an ankle in this act, but Laurel came out unscathed.  
‘I told you…perfect’ Inanna whispered in Laurel’s ear. ‘I’m going to take this body for a spin, if you don’t mind. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to let you watch everything I do.’ Laurel’s being felt like it had been ripped from its usual controlling position inside her body, and was tucked away in a corner so dark, all Laurel could see were the actions that Inanna wanted her to.  
“Mmmm, Horus. Such a beautiful boy. Does Victoria know you came out to play.” Inanna spoke in Laurel’s voice as she ran her hands down Horus’s bare chest.  
“Does Victoria need to know?” Horus’s eyes were lit up from within; a carnal fire burning inside.  
“I love the way you think, child. Shall we have some fun?” Inanna gripped Horus’s hips with her fingernails and pulled him roughly to her.  
“Whatever you please, Mistress.” Horus began to plant his mouth strategically on all of the sore spots of Laurel’s body. Inanna reacted just as he knew Laurel would have.  
“Oh, you already have carnal knowledge of this body. Perfect.” Inanna pulled the boy around the corner of the shop and the two disappeared into the shadows that were left behind by the waning darkness.

(*)

Laurel felt like she had taken a blow to the head. As she came out of her deep sleep she could hear heavy breathing next to her.  
Someone else was asleep in her bed. She rolled over, eyes still closed, trying to feel for who it was. Her hand caught a smooth bare chest. It was male, apparently.  
Laurel willed her eyes to open so she could find out what was going on and why there was some random man in her bed.  
When she opened her eyes, what she saw took her by surprise.  
She was not in her own bed, but Horus’s, and none other than Horus himself was asleep next to her.  
Laurel flailed wildly in a panic as she realized she was less than presentable and had been sleeping next to a naked Horus.  
She clambered out of the bed and searched the room quietly for her clothing. The only thing she found of hers was a pair of torn panties, which would be useless to her at this point.  
Somehow she had to find something to dress herself in so she could get out before Horus awoke.  
Quietly sliding open a drawer to a dresser in the room, Laurel found a black slim fitted shirt and, surprisingly, an old pair of her sleep shorts.  
She quickly dressed in them, tossed the sheet that she had used to cover herself up in the corner, and bolted through the door of his studio apartment.

 

She had slept with Horus, or Inanna had used her body to do so. Laurel was more than embarrassed as she wandered down the streets of an early Sunday morning in Salem, wearing nothing more than her pajamas and completely barefoot.  
Laurel vaguely remembered seeing Horus outside her bedroom window early that morning. Inanna forced her body to go to him. And then she had tossed Laurel aside like some useless ragdoll. She remembered all of that, but she didn’t remember her body leaving with Horus.  
She was ashamed even though she knew she shouldn’t be. It wasn’t her fault.  
A power struggle had begun inside her own body and there was no way that she was going to let this demon win.  
Laurel needed to tell someone what was going on, but would Inanna let her?  
‘Don’t even think about it, Laurel. No one can help you any way. Just give into me; everything will be so much better.’ Inanna warned Laurel.  
But Laurel wouldn’t have any of this. She was going to tell someone, and she was going to tell them now.  
She quickly detoured from the direction of the shop and headed to where she knew the Hawthorne Hotel was. Dean would listen to her, she knew that.  
‘Stop! You’re not going anywhere.’ Inanna jerked the reins and brought Laurel to a halt in the middle of the road. She was determined to control Laurel completely.  
Yet, Laurel pushed on. She willed her legs to run as fast as they could and not stop till she got to Dean.  
She took off at a steady pace at first, but Inanna kept trying to arrest her movement. It felt like Laurel was trying to run through thick, swampy water.  
Laurel pushed any way until her legs were moving so fast it was all her mind focused on, leaving Inanna no time to slip in and keep her from getting to where she was going.  
“Dean, please be there. I don’t know if I can keep holding on like this.” Laurel spoke under her breath as she turned a corner and found herself in front of the Hawthorne. She ran directly to the Impala and collapsed on the trunk, breathing heavily.  
No sooner had she done this when Dean came walking out of the hotel, munching on what appeared to be the bottom of a muffin.  
He saw her, sprawled out on the trunk, eyes closed.  
“Laurel!” Dean tossed the rest of what he had been eating into the grass, and came to scoop up Laurel off the back of his car.  
She was smiling as his hands connected with her body and hoisted her upward so that she was face to face with him.  
‘Nooooo! I will not have you ruin everything!’ Inanna screamed in Laurel’s head. She jerked Laurel’s soul roughly out of control, causing Laurel’s body to lurch upward in Dean’s arms. She gasped once and then collapsed limply.  
“Laur? Are ok?” Dean was staring down at Laurel’s body. He had that funny feeling again that he had had last night when Laurel had acted unlike herself.  
“Mmhm, Dean. I’m fine.” Inanna’s voice was almost too silky to be Laurel’s. She adjusted herself and went on.  
“I just really wanted to see you. I’m sorry about last night.” She smiled sweetly up at Dean.  
“I guess so. You didn’t even bother to get dressed.” Dean laughed, and gently set Laurel’s body on the ground.  
“Yeaaah, I guess I was a little over zealous.” Inanna chuckled in a perfect mimic of Laurel’s lilting laugh.  
“What was wrong with you last night, anyway?” Dean led Laurel to the driver’s side of the car and popped the door, so she could sit on the seat.  
“It just wasn’t a good night. I’m really sorry about lying to you, Dean. I should have told you about who I was. I should have let you know that I was supposed to be in the Great Rite last night. I just didn’t think you’d ever speak to me again if I had.” Laurel had been staring down at her hands in her lap through her speech, and she now looked up at Dean with the most watery blue eyes.  
“I think maybe we would have duked it out and everything would have been ok in the end.” He smiled gently at her and reached out to touch her face for a second.  
This touch made Laurel call out inside her own body. ‘No, Dean. Don’t give into her!’  
Dean looked at Laurel’s body with confusion. “Did you say something?”  
“Nope, why?” Inanna questioned back. She hadn’t heard Laurel’s call.  
“I guess I’m just hearing things.” Dean shook his head, and offered his hand to help Laurel up.  
“Why don’t we get you back to the apartment so you can change, and then we can go get some breakfast.”  
“Sounds delicious.” Inanna over emphasized her words.

 

* * *

 

Breakfast went well.  
Dean had no idea that the girl he was speaking to was not Laurel. Inanna slipped into her character flawlessly.  
After their meal, Dean dropped Laurel back off at the apartment and headed out to meet up with Sam to start on their investigation again.  
The past few days had been a waste, with Sam and Lilianna never leaving each other’s sides, Laurel not wanting to leave the house, and Dean being confused about everything in between.

“I want to go talk to this Victoria woman. Maybe she has some information for us.” Dean sped back down the road that he had driven down so many times in the past five days.  
“There’s something strange about her, Dean. She touched me the other day when I went to meet her and I felt like my skin was on fire, and not in a good way.” Sam was flipping through an ancient text he held.  
“I just have this gut feeling. Laurel’s been strange since last night.” Dean never took his eyes off the road.  
“Well, you did kind of rip her head off about being a witch and then left her in the woods.” Sam never once looked up from the book.  
“Thanks for reminding me, Sammy. What would I do without you?” Dean’s facetious tone was grating.

(*)

 

“Ah, Sam, you’ve come back. And who is this handsome young man you’ve brought with you?” Victoria hugged Sam tightly and kissed his cheek.  
“This is my brother, Dean.” Sam introduced Dean to Victoria and her eyes lit up.  
“Such a beautiful face. So full of energy.” Victoria extended her hand to Dean and he shook it gently.  
It wasn’t the response Victoria had expected, but she took it gracefully.  
“So, what brings you two here today?” Victoria ushered the two back to her chambers and sat them down on a rather small love seat.  
“Well, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves last night; it was a beautiful celebration and we were thinking about possibly joining the coven.” Sam spoke smoothly and Dean winced at the notion of joining the Coven.  
“We do have some concerns though.” Dean interjected.  
“Concerns? Whatever could they be?” Victoria asked with mock distress.  
“We’re new here in Salem and I keep hearing these rumors flying around about disappearances in your coven?” Dean phrased it as a question, daring Victoria to come back with a correct answer.  
“Oh, not to worry, my dear. That’s all just trash talk. All of our Coven members are safe and sound, I assure you.” Victoria leaned forward in her seat trying to catch Dean’s eye.  
“That’s strange because we spoke to a few members last night and they are claiming that at least fifteen members have gone missing over the past three months.” Sam shot back.  
Victoria seemed to choke on something, “That can’t be. All of our members are accounted for.” She began to fan herself with her hand.  
“I just don’t want to join this Coven and then go missing in a few weeks.” Dean laughed at himself.  
Victoria narrowed her eyes at him, “As I said, I can assure you that nothing has happened to any of our Coven members. Whatever you heard is complete and utter nonsense.” She leaned back in her chair, still eyeing Dean.  
“Then that settles it. My brother and I would love to become initiates for the Coven.” Sam smiled seductively at Victoria.  
“Brilliant.” She breathed, and shook the brother’s hands.

 

* * *

 

“Laurel?” Lilianna had been gone all day working in the shop and when she arrived home that afternoon she found Laurel in the living room, leafing through an old worn journal.  
“Hey, Lili.” Inanna responded to her in Laurel’s voice.  
“I just-I just wanted to apologize for last night.” Lilianna’s face was stricken with worry. She knew how much the events the evening prior had upset her sister.  
“I forgive you. The thing with Horus wasn’t a big deal and you telling Dean that I’m a witch just made me realize something.” Inanna set the journal on the coffee table and looked up at Lilianna.  
“What’s that?” Lilianna was curious.  
“That secrets shouldn’t be kept like that. You shouldn’t hold in who you truly are. I’m a witch and I should accept that. If others don’t accept me for being who I am, than I don’t need them in my life.” Inanna turned up the corners of Laurel’s mouth in a coy smile.  
“I totally agree. You should embrace who you are.” Lilianna smiled sweetly back at what she thought was her sister.  
“And that’s why I think Sam should tell you who he really is.” Inanna turned her face towards the journal that lay on the table and picked it up, readying herself to go back to the bedroom.  
“What are you talking about?” Panic and confusion were evident on Lilianna’s face.  
“Talk to him about it. Who am I to share someone else’s secrets?” And with that Inanna excused herself to the bedroom without another word, leaving Lilianna standing alone in the living room, slack jawed. 

(*)

“What the hell is wrong with Laurel?” Sam was yelling as he paced back and forth between the beds in the hotel room.  
Dean had just walked in from grabbing something to eat, when he found his brother completely incensed with Laurel for some reason.  
“What are you hollering about?” Dean came to sit on the edge of his bed.  
“I just got a phone call from Lilianna, half in tears. Apparently she was talking to Laurel about not keeping secrets about who one truly is. She told Lili to ask me about who I really was because I was deliberately keeping it a secret from her. What the hell am I supposed to tell her?” Sam’s face was red as he fumed.  
“Hi, my name is Sam Winchester and I hunt demons.” Dean laughed at himself and took a bite out of his bacon cheeseburger.  
“Not funny, Dean. She’s never going to speak to me again if I tell her that I’m a hunter.” Sam was now sitting on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his tousled hair.  
“She’s a witch, Sammy. I doubt she’ll hate you. I’m sure she deals with this sort of stuff all the time.” Dean pursed his lips and rolled his eyes.  
“Demons aren’t fairies and stardust, Dean.” Sam was now glaring into nothingness.  
“Now, look who’s being ignorant.” Dean stood and tossed the wrapper to his burger in the garbage can.  
“You know what I mean. What we do is on a much different level than what she does. I just don’t know what would have provoked Laurel to say that to her.” Sam rubbed his eyes and hung his head low.  
“Maybe I do.” A voice came from the corner of the bedroom near the bathroom.  
The brothers turned to see Castiel there in his usual khaki trench coat, looking as somber as ever.  
“Could you at least knock first, Cas?” Dean looked slightly irritated.  
“My apologies, but I may know what’s going on with your friend, Dean.” Castiel meandered across the room and came to stand in front of the window.  
Dean was intrigued. “Do tell.”  
“Salem is a hot spot for demonic activity. As angels we are ever vigilant here, ready to stop anything that might find its way through the gates of Hell. I’m sad to say that we missed this one.” Castiel’s tone of voice never changed.  
“Wait, what did you miss?” Dean had a lump in his throat and a knot in his stomach.  
“The Coven of Inanna is a ruse. The Inanna they worship is not the Sumerian Goddess; she’s a demon. And I believe she’s here.” Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean.  
“What does this have to do with Laurel?” Dean was beginning to panic  
“We believe that somehow this demon is affecting your friend Laurel. But we just don’t know in what way. How involved in the Coven is she?” Castiel questioned.  
“Well, considering that she’s a hunter and isn’t around much, I’d say not very involved at all.” Dean calmed himself down, there was no way that there was anything demonic affecting Laurel.  
“But she did participate in the Great Rite at Beltane.” Sam interjected.  
Castiel furrowed his brow in thought.  
“I think that may be where it started. For some reason I can’t see Inanna, but I can feel her now. I believe that she knows I’m here so she’s going to try and keep a low profile. Laurel is vulnerable, Dean, you need to keep an eye on her.” Castiel’s tone was unnervingly serious.  
“I will, trust me.” Dean pulled his phone from his pocket and began to scroll through his contacts. He grabbed his coat and made his way to the door.  
“Where are you going, Dean?” Sam questioned his brother.  
“To go find Laurel. I’m not leaving her alone longer than I have to.”

 

Dean called Laurel’s number repeatedly over the next several hours, but she never answered. He even called Lilianna to ask about Laurel’s whereabouts, but even she didn’t know.  
At around nine PM he decided to call it quits, and try her again in the morning. He had no idea where she was and it was starting to worry him.  
What could this demon possibly have to do with Laurel?

 

(*)

 

“When are you going to speak with Inanna about our gifts?” Horus was lounged back in a love seat eating an apple as Victoria freshened herself up in front of the mirror.  
“Tonight. I know she’ll come here tonight. I’m hoping she’s had enough time to acclimate herself to Laurel’s body. I envy Laurel so much.” Victoria was applying a thick line of eyeliner to her eyes as she spoke.  
“You should.” Horus snorted under his breath quietly enough so that Victoria couldn’t hear.  
“We will be blessed, Horus. The power that she will bestow upon us is immeasurable to anything else we could have ever imagined.” Victoria gloated as she slipped on a slinky floor length red dress.  
Victoria had no idea how well Horus understood this statement. Inanna promised him endless power and fame. Horus’s greedy personality was finally going to be satisfied. He would have Laurel’s body that he so desperately craved, and an all powerful demon who could give him whatever he wanted.  
“Mistress?” A very pale young man had appeared in Victoria’s chambers and ushered in Inanna before she received an acceptance for anyone to enter.  
“My goddess.” Victoria bowed low as Inanna entered.  
“Don’t objectify yourself, Victoria. Stand proud. You have accomplished something that no one else has ever done successfully.” Inanna hooked her finger under Victoria’s chin and bid her to stand up.  
Victoria had the expression of a child on Christmas morning.  
“Thank you, mistress.” She curtsied.  
“I know you and Horus,” Inanna cast a hungry glance his way, “Are eager to know of the gifts that I have planned for your steadfast loyalty to me. They shall come in due time and I know they will be appreciated. But, now, we need to discuss my role in gaining the full trust of the Winchester boys, especially Dean.  
Laurel has messed this up completely by holding things back from him, but I think I can work past that.” Inanna sat herself in a high backed chair and stared around the room, studying her surroundings.  
“I’m sure this can easily be done. They want to join our Coven which Laurel is already part of.” Victoria beamed as if she made Inanna’s job easier.  
“Fool! What were you thinking?” Inanna stormed from her chair and came to hover over Victoria. Even though Laurel’s stature was much smaller than Victoria’s, the incensed tone of Inanna made Victoria shrink in comparison.  
“Do you have any idea why those boys are even here? They made my job easier, not you!” Inanna had easily read Victoria’s mind.  
“I-I don’t understand, my Goddess.” Victoria drew into herself, fearing that she had upset Inanna to no end.  
“Victoria…Dean and Sam aren’t your normal run of the mill boys. They are hunters, my dear, and they hunt my kind. I expected to have to turn the tables on them and hunt them down, but it seems fate was on my side and brought them to me.  
They don’t want to join your silly Coven; they were here on what they thought to be a hunt. They caught wind of the disappearances just as Laurel had and came here to investigate. They figured it to be of a supernatural nature and they were not entirely incorrect.” Inanna was pacing the room, trying to calculate her next movement.  
“I don’t know how they found Laurel; I don’t even know what their connection may be, if any. But by their chanced meeting, they made my existence so much simpler.” She rounded behind the loveseat Horus was sitting on and came back to Victoria’s side.  
“Maybe letting them join the Coven may not be such a bad idea.” Inanna mused, finger poised over Laurel’s lips.  
Victoria relaxed at this statement and straightened herself back up.  
“Invite them here for a private ritual, Lilianna too, and of course myself. Let’s show them the power Laurel and I hold, together.” She grinned in a cat like manner, very proud of her almost unspoken idea.  
“I need to get going; Lilianna is going to worry why her sister’s been gone so long.” She extended her hand for Victoria to kiss.  
“Horus, could you escort me to my car.” She laughed and Horus followed her out of Victoria’s chambers.

 

(*)

“What do you have planned, my love?” Horus was pressing into Laurel’s body in a suggestive manner.  
“You’ll see, my darling, you’ll see.” She leaned in and kissed Horus passionately, causing him to back up into the Bel Air and melt under her touch into the frame of the car.  
“Now, run along back inside and tend to Victoria. I’m sure she’s getting lonely.” Inanna dismissed Horus and hopped into the Bel Air, revved the engine, and sped off down the drive to the main road.

(*)

It was dark wherever Laurel was. She could hear the sound of her car purring somewhere below her, and the thoughts of Inanna raced through her own mind.  
She was going to find Dean.  
Laurel couldn’t take it any longer. There was no way in hell that she was going to let Inanna seduce Dean in her body. If she wanted Dean to have that knowledge it would be because she willed it so, not because some demon was on a power trip.  
Laurel had forced Inanna out of the driver’s seat before, and she was going to will her spirit to do it again.  
In her self contained prison inside her own body, Laurel felt her senses come alive. She could hear everything magnified around her and taste the cigarette smoke that Inanna drew into her body. The engine roared as Inanna recklessly drove Laurel’s baby down the back roads of Salem.  
As Laurel pulled in all the energies around her from outside her body as well as internally, she began to see what Inanna was witnessing through her own eyes.  
She believed she had enough strength to pull her spirit through to her own body again.  
Laurel whispered quietly inside her own mind, an ancient Enochian incantation. True Enochian.  
The words caused her soul to leap forward in her body, shoving Inanna’s back abruptly.  
‘You are not regaining control of this body!’ Inanna spat, as Laurel could now see through her own eyes as herself, and not through some Demon. She began to wheel the car down another side road that would take her home instead of the Hawthorne, when she felt her chest being pulled inward.  
‘I will not have this insolence!’ Inanna hissed, and jerked Laurel so hard it caused her foot to reflexively punch down on the gas.  
The car lurched forward and as Inanna resumed her commanding position in Laurel’s body it was too late. The car was heading for a deep ravine, and as Inanna tried to brake, the car spun wildly out of control straight into the ditch.  
Laurel could hear the crunch of her headlights as they met the rocky ground and could feel her body being compressed into the steering wheel.  
Even thought she wasn’t in control of anything she could feel the pain that surged through her body.  
‘ Dean, please help me.’ Her mind meekly called out as her body weakened and slumped over on itself.  
She was trapped miles away from anyone and inside a body that seemed to no longer be hers.

 

* * *

 

Dean shot bolt upright in bed, panting. He had had a series of frightening dreams that somehow involved Laurel, but now that he was fully awake he remembered nothing.  
He stared around the room blindly; it was still dark and his phone only read 3:56 AM.  
There also seemed to be no missed calls either; he had hoped for a return call from Laurel.  
The air seemed thick around Dean as he dragged himself out of bed. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and downed it in almost one gulp.  
The dream had seemingly heated Dean up and he felt as if he were in a sauna. He decided that it would be a good idea to go for an early morning drive in the Impala and clear his head.

(*)

Laurel awoke, still slumped over the steering wheel. Her head was throbbing from the impact and her skin seemed to be on fire. She couldn’t even imagine the abuse her body had taken as the Bel Air had tumbled over the ravine.  
Surprisingly, she wasn’t pinned in the driver’s seat. The seatbelt was stuck, however, and she somehow managed to fish her boot knife out of her shoe and quickly sliced through the strap that held her in the mangled metal frame that had been her baby.  
The car had landed on the passenger’s side, leaving the driver’s side door almost completely unharmed. She squeezed herself out from under the steering wheel and reached out to pop the door handle. She shoved the door with all her might as it groaned angrily in protest, until finally it swung back and she was able to crawl out.  
Not only had the impact jarred Laurel severely, but it had apparently knocked Inanna out cold; Laurel could feel her essence lying limply inside her own body.  
This was the perfect opportunity for Laurel to get help, but fate had decided to take her car away and leave her beaten and bruised on the side of a highway that was rarely traveled, except for coveners.  
When Laurel had made her way up the ravine, panting, she propped herself up against a small tree on the side of the road and extracted her phone from her pocket, hoping that it hadn’t been crushed in the wreck too.  
Despite the circumstances, fate seemed to be on her side. The phone’s screen was cracked, but otherwise was in perfect working order.  
Laurel’s vision started to blur as she found Dean’s number and punched the send key.  
“Dean, please answer.” Laurel pleaded with the phone as she closed her eyes and waited.

 

(*)

Dean had come around a sharp bend in the road heading out towards the coven grounds when his phone began to ring.  
“Who in the hell would be calling me at this hour?” Dean held the phone to his face to see who it could have been.  
Laurel’s name blazed back at him and he quickly flipped open the phone to answer it.  
“Hello?” Dean tried not to sound too panicked.  
“Dean, thank gods.” Laurel’s voice came out rough and winded.  
“Laurel, where are you?” Dean was almost breathless as he punched the gas and picked up speed in the Impala; he had this strong feeling that she was nearby.  
“Right where the road forks as you enter the Coven grounds. Hurry, Dean. I don’t think I have much time.” Laurel’s voice sounded strangled.  
“What? What do you mean? What’s going on, Laur?” Dean’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel and sped on.  
“She wrecked my baby, Dean. That whore is trying to control me. Please, just hurry.” Laurel’s voice had sunk to a desperate whisper.  
“Whore? Who are you talking about?” Dean hated playing the question game; he just wished Laurel would get to the point.  
“Inanna.” Laurel’s end of the line clicked, and Dean had lost her.  
“Son of a bitch!” Dean bellowed, punching the dash as he sped on to where he knew Laurel was waiting.

 

(*)

Laurel was trying her hardest to hold Inanna back. She had awoken as Laurel spoke to Dean, and desperately tried to claw her way back to the forefront of Laurel’s body.  
“You will not control me, Inanna.” Laurel hissed, clutching her chest as she tried to stand up from her seat beneath the tree.  
‘Do not fight me, Laurel. It’s fruitless.’ Inanna’s voice arose in Laurel’s head.  
“I’m stronger than you, Inanna, and you know it. I can feel your fear.” Laurel’s voice was gruff as she finally came to a standing position.  
‘Never! I would never fear you! You are nothing compared to me!’ Inanna’s intense voice screamed, ripping through Laurel’s psyche.  
Laurel shook her head to clear her mind and called out loud as she walked across the road, “Where are you, Dean?”  
‘You may find that our precious little Dean is having car troubles.’ Inanna lied, laughing maniacally at Laurel’s dismay.  
“You bitch.” Laurel cursed, backing herself up against a wooden sign that was in the fork of the road welcoming people to the Coven of Inanna.  
Laurel kept fighting the demon that so desperately tried to keep its hold on her, but she didn’t know how long she’d last. She finally realized that she was bleeding from a rather large gash that had torn her lower abdomen when the car had careened down the ditch.  
She had left a trail of blood along the road as she had made her way to the sign she now stood in front of.  
Laurel doubled over on herself and began to cry.  
“Mommy,” She sobbed, trying to stop the blood that flowed from her, “Help me.”  
‘Your mother can’t save you now.’ Inanna had started to gain strength.  
A faint memory shimmered in Laurel’s mind as she cried in desperation.

‘Her mother tucked her into bed and gently kissed her forehead.  
“Remember, love. If you’re ever in need of help and I’m not here to console you, remember this name.  
Castiel.  
Call to him and he will come to your rescue. Nothing in the dark will harm you as long as he’s around.”  
Little Laurel smiled up at her mother and whispered, “Castiel.” As she drifted into a child’s dream.’

Just then Laurel could hear an engine roaring closely. She knew it was the Impala, but she didn’t have time to wait for Dean to save her.  
She picked herself upright, extended her arms towards the sky and screamed.  
“Castiel!”

 

* * *

Dean’s headlights caught two figures in their glare; one of which was clearly Laurel, the other was male.  
He jerked the car to the shoulder of the road and parked it, not even bothering to cut the engine off.  
He leapt from the car, shotgun in hand, and bounded over to Laurel. What he saw took him completely by surprise.

“Stay where you are, Dean. Don’t come any closer.” Castiel extended his arm towards Dean and commanded him to stay put.  
He then turned towards Laurel and spoke, “Why have you called me here?”  
“I have not summoned you, Angel.” Laurel’s voice was a deep hiss.  
“You cannot have this girl. Who are you?” Castiel was stern as he interrogated Laurel’s body, realizing that it was not she who was speaking.  
“I am the great Inanna and I take orders from no one, let alone one of Heaven’s little bitches.” Laurel had coiled in on herself, and Dean could tell she was ready to fight.  
“I wouldn’t speak to an angel of the Lord like that if I were you.” Castiel’s eyes were full of fury; Dean had never seen him like that.  
“Leave your vessel at once.” Castiel’s voice never rose in pitch or wavered in its tone, but there was power behind it.  
“If that’s what you wish, Angel. But if I do, she will die.” Laurel’s left arm had been wrapped around her middle, but she now removed it, revealing the fatal wound that was beneath it.  
Dean began to lunge forward out of anger and fear for Laurel’s life, but Castiel held his hand up and stopped Dean in his tracks.  
“I’m not going to ask you again. Leave her at once.” Castiel commanded.  
“Never.” Inanna hissed, shrinking back from the light of the angel.  
“As you wish.” Castiel came forward and snatched Laurel’s body up, holding her close to him. She struggled, trying to free herself from Castiel’s grip, but it was futile.  
He leaned her back in his arms and placed the palm of his right hand in the middle of her chest.  
Laurel screamed in terror as her head lurched back and a billowing black smoke erupted from her mouth.  
It hissed and screeched as it flowed from her body and spiraled upwards into the sky, disappearing.  
Laurel fell limp in the angel’s arms as the blood from her wound flowed faster now and began to soak into the trench coat that Castiel wore religiously.  
Dean’s eyes glassed over as he watched Laurel dying in the arms of an angel. There was nothing he could do; Castiel still held him fast in place.  
“Do something, Cas!” He shouted, struggling with nothing as he stood there helplessly.  
“Have faith, Dean.” Castiel scooped Laurel up tighter in his arms and whispered, ‘You called, and I have come. You are safe.’ He then placed two fingers on Laurel’s forehead.  
Laurel could feel the most blissful warmth fill up her body, sealing the gash in her abdomen; strength surging through every fiber of her being.  
She was healed.  
Castiel let go of her and she stood there, illuminated in the headlights of the Impala, studying her perfectly healed body.  
With the release of Laurel from Castiel’s grip, came the release of Dean from his anxiety ridden stationary position in the road.  
He rushed forward to Laurel and threw his arms around her, pulling her tightly into his chest.  
“Dean, I’m ok.” Laurel meekly returned the gesture.  
Dean tried to speak, but choked. He decided it better that he keep his mouth shut and not ruin the moment.  
“Dean, we don’t have much time. Inanna will be back.” Castiel’s concerned expression wasn’t surprising.  
“But you just, “ Dean began as Castiel cut him off.  
“Inanna is tethered to Laurel. I just sent her off for a while, but she will be back.” Castiel pulled Laurel from Dean’s grip and began to lead her to the Impala.  
“We need to take her somewhere safe and you and I need to talk.”  
Dean didn’t question the angel for once. He obeyed and followed the two to the Impala where the three of them climbed in and headed back to the Hawthorne.

 

* * *

 

Laurel lay curled up in Dean’s bed. Her eyes were closed, but Dean knew better; she wasn’t sleeping, just listening.  
Dean and Castiel had taken the liberty of fortifying the hotel room as best they could with salt on every doorway and a devil’s trap by the door hidden under a bath mat. What good it would do, they didn’t know.  
“Dean, listen carefully. I wasn’t sure at first, but now I’m completely convinced. Inanna is one of the 66 Seals.” Castiel looked sternly at Dean as they finished up.  
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean shook his head and then placed his face in his hands as he sat down at the kitchen table.  
“This coven evoked her, they released her; unknowingly breaking a seal. They performed some sort of ritual to place her inside of Laurel’s body.  
She’s not a normal demon. She couldn’t just possess any one; she’d destroy the vessel in no time.” Castiel turned from where he had sat down to check on Laurel. She still lay in the same position, eyes closed, now asleep.  
“Then how is Laurel still alive?” Dean was curious.  
“There is something about her, Dean. Something that makes her stronger than most, both physically and metaphysically.” This statement sparked something in Dean’s mind.  
“I think she may be one of the demon children, like Sam. She told me that Azazel came to her when she was six or seven. His motive seemed different somehow, though. I mean Laurel was much older than Sammy and he didn’t jut bleed in her mouth, he bled in her eyes too. I don’t think her parents had any knowledge of him either. Our mom knew he was coming.” Dean still didn’t like talking about the death of his mother.  
“That may be part of it, Dean, but I think there is more to it somehow.” Castiel rose from his seat and went to Laurel. He scanned her body for a moment and then picked up her right arm, pushing back the sleeve of her coat. He revealed what looked to be a long healed cut in her arm.  
“You did this, Dean.” Castiel responded. Dean couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement.  
He came over to analyze Castiel’s accusation when he saw the scar on Laurel’s arm. He was completely baffled.  
“Yeah, I cut her. But that was only a few days ago. That scar looks years old.” Dean didn’t understand.  
“This ability wouldn’t come from demon blood.” Castiel pushed the sleeve back down on Laurel’s jacket.  
“What ability?” Dean hated when Castiel was so cryptic.  
“To self heal.” Castiel responded casually.  
“Do what? If she can self heal, then why didn’t she just heal herself back at the coven grounds?” Dean wasn’t entirely convinced.  
“She was too weak from Inanna. The wound was very severe and she didn’t have enough energy, or time, to heal herself.” Of course Castiel had the right answer.  
“Of course. If the self healing isn’t a product of the demon blood, then what is it?” Dean had to know.  
“I’m not quite sure, Dean.” Castiel wasn’t completely telling the truth, “But the fact that she can, makes her the perfect vessel for Inanna, and someone inside the Coven knew that. Because they summoned Inanna into Laurel’s body, they are tethered to each other. I can’t just make the demon leave.” Castiel was deep in thought at this response.  
“Then how do we get rid of this hell whore?” Dean was getting frustrated.  
“You’ll have to kill the vessel to kill the demon.” Laurel’s voice broke through the conversation Dean and Castiel were having.  
“No.” Dean was in disbelief.  
“She’s right, Dean. In a sense they are one now. I’m not quite sure how we can separate Inanna from Laurel’s soul. It seems almost impossible.” Castiel’s words were far from comforting.  
“There has to be some ritual, some spell that can separate them.” Dean was getting desperate. He fumbled around for his phone to make a call.  
“I doubt he’s up, Dean. He and Lilianna are probably asleep.” Laurel interjected, implying that Dean was going to call Sam.  
“I’m not calling Sam. I’m going to call Bobby.” Dean dialed the number and held the phone to his ear.  
“Bobby will find a way to get you out of this.”

 

(*)

Several hours went by, and Dean spent most of his time on the phone with Bobby trying to find some ancient text that would sever the tie between Inanna and Laurel.  
Finally Dean hung up the phone around 8 AM. “Bobby’s trying. He said he’d call me back if he found something.” Dean set his phone on the nightstand and perched himself next to Laurel.  
Castiel had left shortly after Dean had dialed Bobby and hadn’t made his presence known since. He was doing some investigating of his own.  
“I’m not sure how much time I have, Dean. She could come back any second and I’m sure she’ll be pissed.” Laurel raked her fingers through her knotted hair and stared down at the floor.  
“You’re safe here.” Dean’s expression softened and he reached out and gripped Laurel’s hand.  
“But you may not be. She’s gunning for you, Dean. While you were talking to Bobby about this, Castiel explained to me about the seals and your and Sam’s involvement. She wants you either out of the way, or on her side for this. If she comes back, I can’t stay here with you.” Laurel hated stating the obvious, but she wasn’t about to let Dean get caught up in this battle for her body.  
“Laurel, I’ve been to hell and back with these demons, literally. I sold my soul to save Sam, Laur. They know me down there, and I know them. I’ll fight her tooth and nail if I have to.” Dean lifted Laurel’s face so she was looking right into his smoldering hazel eyes.  
“I don’t think it’s that simple with her, Dean. You don’t know what she’s done already. When ‘we’ had breakfast yesterday—that wasn’t me. When I told Lili that Sam was keeping secrets, that wasn’t me either. She used me body and slept with Horus, Dean. She’s strong…and I’m worried that she’s too strong.” Laurel’s eyes became distant at this last revelation.  
“I knew you weren’t behaving like yourself, and I think Sam has the situation with Lilianna handled. I’ll kill Horus myself if I have to.” Laurel noted the expression on Dean’s face; it was fury.  
“But let’s not think about that. Can you remember how this happened? Castiel thinks it has something to do with the Great Rite at Beltane.” Dean paused, waiting for Laurel to respond.  
Laurel’s eyes were vacant for a moment as she tried to recall that evening.  
“It’s fuzzy. I do remember some things, though.”  
“Like what?” Dean pushed her.  
“I remember that the missing coven members was a bullshit scheme; they were all at the ritual. Victoria and Horus had planned all of it to get me back to Salem. They knew that if I feared that Lilianna may be in trouble that I’d do anything to get back here and make sure she was safe…and they were right.  
I just remember not being able to control myself. Horus was the Horned God. He came into the alcove and started babbling about Inanna, and then I started to lose it for a while. Then came this excruciating pain.  
Next thing I remember was Victoria and the other coven members, and this girl Cecilia that used to be friends with Lili. There was more talk about Inanna from Victoria and then…” Laurel paused, a horrified expression on her face.  
“Oh my god, Dean. I drank blood. Ceciia’s blood.”  
“You wh—“ Before Dean could finish his response someone in the room interjected.  
“Dean, it’s a blood tie.” Castiel was standing in front of Dean and Laurel, his expression as somber as ever.  
“There was a sacrifice for the evocation. Laurel drank the blood of the sacrifice.” Castiel noticed the look on the faces of his audience. It wasn’t surprise, but it wasn’t one of ease either.  
“We kinda figured that out just now. Laurel is trying to remember what happened at the Great Rite.” Dean stood and went to grab his phone again.  
Castiel came to stand by Laurel. “What else do you remember?”  
Laurel focused for a second, calling on her energies to help the memories of that night resurface.  
“They summoned her before I got here. Victoria said that Inanna had been roaming Salem, disembodied, waiting for me.” She blinked as something pertinent made itself known to her.  
“Horus! Horus was carving symbols all over my body with this blade. I remember looking down at myself and recognizing some of them. I think they were a bastardized version of Enochian.”  
Castiel’s expression wavered; it was shock.  
Laurel stood from the bed and raised her shirt, exposing her stomach. There, in intricate faded pink lines were sigils, mapped out strategically on her torso.  
“Son of a bitch.” Dean had just gotten off the phone with Bobby, presumably, when he noticed Laurel.  
“Is that what you saw out in the circle?” Dean came closer to Laurel to analyze her stomach.  
“Yes, they looked just like these.” Laurel was running her hand over the small scars on her torso.  
“This isn’t good, Dean. Enochian magic is very powerful. If they used this we are going to have a hard time even trying to detach Inanna from Laurel.” Castiel was trying to be comforting in his statement, knowing that it was almost impossible to split the two.  
“Is this sort of thing widely known in witchcraft?” Dean was crouched down in front of Laurel, still looking intently at the sigils.  
“Enochian? A version of it, yes, but not these. These are angelic sigils. It seems like they have been twisted however, directing the magic in a different way.” Castiel responded.  
“They’re demonic.” Laurel abruptly pulled her shirt down and sat on the bed.  
“Figures. I think we need to write all the sigils down that are on Laurel’s body.” Dean looked to Castiel for approval and he nodded.  
Laurel glanced back and forth between Dean and Castiel.  
“I guess that seems to be the best idea.” She began to pull her pants off.  
“Wait, what are you doing?” Dean had turned red from embarrassment and held his hand up at Laurel.  
“They’re all over my body, Dean. I can’t see them to write them down, so you’re going to have to look.” Laurel’s brow knit together as she stared at Dean.  
Dean shot a glance at Castiel, who returned the look with the usual Castiel stare.  
“Fine.” Dean seemed fidgety as he sat down in one of the kitchenette chairs.  
Laurel slipped her pants off and tossed them on the bed. Next came her jacket which landed somewhere next to Dean, then she began to unbutton the flannel shirt that she had on.  
Dean didn’t want to stare but he couldn’t help himself.  
As Laurel slowly undid the buttons, it seemed, Dean noticed the sigils on her chest, amidst a couple dozen other scars that adorned her body. They seemed to tell a story of where Laurel had been in life, of what had happened to her.  
He noticed the large pink half moon scar that cut over her heart where Laurel had been attacked by a werewolf when she was eighteen. There were also several marks on her ribcage that looked more like burns than anything else, where she had been tortured by a group of vampires on her sixteenth birthday.  
Even though her petite body was covered in the bitter sweet memories of a hunter, it made her even more beautiful to Dean.  
Laurel had finally finished undressing and laid her shirt on top of the night stand. She stood there in nothing but her underwear, trying helplessly to cover her shame.  
“Why don’t you come lay down on the couch so we can get a better look at the symbols. Are there any in places we shouldn’t see?” Dean questioned, hoping the answer was no.  
“I think most of them are in plain sight. There are sigils on the palms of my hands and the tops of my feet, though. Most of them are on my midsection up to my collar bone.” Laurel made her way to the couch and laid herself out like some study subject.  
“Ok, then. Let’s get down to business.” Dean had pulled out a pen and hotel stationary, and readied himself to study Laurel’s half naked body. Just the thought of it made his body ache. This girl seemed to keep messing up his perfectly detached hunter’s mentality.

 

* * *

 

“What does that look like to you, Cas?” Over an hour later, Dean was sitting on the couch as Laurel slept in his bed. It had proven to be quite the arduous task of copying down the sigils that were on her body. In some places she had healed too well, and if it hadn’t been for Castiel, Dean never would have been able to make out what they were.  
The two were now looking over the Enochian script and noting the way they were arranged on Laurel’s body.  
“It’s almost like the Devil Traps you and Sam use.” Castiel commented, pointing out to some pinnacle symbols on the page.  
“Yeah, but it’s almost as if it’s somehow reversed, in a sense. The layout is keeping Inanna ‘trapped’, for lack of a better word, in Laurel’s body. Between this and the blood that Laur drank, it fused Inanna with her soul I think.” Dean didn’t want to be right for once, but he was almost positive that he was.  
“I need to send this to Bobby. Could you possibly bring this to him, Cas? And try using the door when you get there, I don’t need Bobby pumping you full of rock salt.” Dean handed Castiel the inscribed piece of paper.  
Before Dean could thank him, Castiel was gone.

Laurel was sleeping quietly when Dean came over to the bedside to check on her. She was wrapped up in his leather jacket and a t-shirt; her hair fell loosely and cascaded over his pillow.  
She looked peaceful for once, instead of up in arms like she had been since Dean had met her.  
He had no idea how long he had before Inanna would make her way back to Laurel’s body, but Dean wanted to make every second count. He was more than determined to find a way to exorcise Inanna without having to end Laurel’s life to do so.  
“Laurel?” Dean spoke gently, but the girl didn’t stir. “I just wanted to tell you that—that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’ve put you through hell about who you are. I’m sorry that I couldn’t have known you longer. And I’m sorry that I have to tell you all this while you’re asleep.” Dean shook his head, ashamed with himself that he couldn’t come out and just tell Laurel how he was feeling while she was conscious.  
A wave of exhaustion hit Dean at that moment, and he realized it was almost noon. He had been up since 3 AM and hadn’t slept much before that. Considering the circumstances that had transpired since then, he was surprised he was even still standing.  
Dean pulled his shirt up over his head, and quietly slid his pants off. He began to make his way to Sam’s bed when he heard a quiet voice.  
“Dean?” Dean spun around to see Laurel propped up in his bed, a look of worry in her eyes.  
“Yeah?” He wasn’t quite sure how to respond now that he was the one standing before her, completely shameless.  
“I don’t know how to word this without sounding too forward, but…will you sleep next to me?” She didn’t want to sound like she was implying anything other than just sleep.  
Dean’s expression was quizzical, and he still hadn’t moved from the position he had been standing in when Laurel first spoke.  
“I just—I feel really vulnerable right now. I don’t know when or how Inanna is going to come back, and I want someone else to know too. I don’t want to be alone in my own body like that again without someone else being aware that it isn’t just me in here.” Laurel looked as if she were about to cry.  
“I knew there was something not right about you, Laur, I just didn’t know what it was. I may have only known you for about a week, but I know you well enough to realize when you aren’t acting like yourself. Call it hunter’s intuition.” Dean smiled lopsidedly at Laurel.  
“I’m glad at least someone noticed I wasn’t myself. Lili has been so wrapped up in Sam she couldn’t even tell that I wasn’t me.” Laurel scooted herself back under Dean’s jacket as Dean climbed into the bed next to her.  
“I think she knew something was wrong, Laur, but you do keep a lot of secrets from her and I guess she didn’t want to pry.” Dean settled in next to Laurel and crossed his arms under his head.  
“You know damn well why I have to hide things from her; it’s for her own good, Dean.” Laurel positioned her head towards Dean.  
“I know, trust me. Get some sleep, ok?” Dean didn’t want to think about kept secrets any more.  
She nodded silently and casually snuggled up against Dean. The bare skin of her legs up against him was warm and comforting; the two were asleep in no time.

 

* * *

 

Sam tried to quietly maneuver his way through the hotel room. It was after nine o’clock and the room was almost completely pitch black.  
He hadn’t heard from Dean all day and had started to get worried about him; it wasn’t like him to not keep contact with Sam, especially on a hunt.  
When he entered the room he could faintly see Dean asleep in his bed and decided not to bother him.  
Sam had almost made his way to the bathroom to grab a few things, not bothering to turn the light on and subsequently wake Dean, when he tripped over one of the kitchen chairs that had been pulled out.  
In no time Dean had hopped out of the bed, wielding his Colt, and flicked on the desk light.  
“Dean, it’s just me.” Sam stayed completely still in the doorway to the bathroom, not wanting to set Dean off.  
“Jesus, Sammy, you scared the hell out of me.” Dean set the gun down on the desk with a sigh of relief.  
It was then that Sam noticed a few things in the room were out of place. There was salt on the two windows that lined the wall where Dean’s bed was positioned, and salt on the small window in the bathroom. The threshold to the door also had salt poured across it and the bathroom rug lay underneath it.  
Dean rushed to the door to fix the breached salt line as Sam turned his attention to Dean’s bed, which wasn’t empty.  
Laurel lay there, sound asleep, still curled up in Dean’s old leather jacket.  
“Really, Dean?” Sam chuckled, shaking his head.  
“Really, what?” Dean was still bent over pouring salt in front of the door way. He noted Sam’s amused expression and realized that his attention was turned towards the bed.  
“It’s not what it looks like, Sam.” Dean had finished his task, straightened the rug, and stood. He threw a shirt over his head, and grabbed a beer from the fridge, coming to sit down at the pulled out kitchen table.  
“It looks like you bedded a hunter.” Sam laughed and came to sit next to his brother.  
“Seriously, Sam, we were just sleeping.” Dean popped the cap on the bottle and began to drink. Sam surveyed his brother’s features. Dean’s eyes were ringed in dark and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. Even his hand seemed tired as he tilted the beer bottle to his mouth.  
“So, I smoothed everything over with Lilianna.” Sam decided not to push the subject of Laurel in Dean’s bed.  
“Yeah, how’d that go?” Dean kept his eyes averted from Sam.  
“Relatively well, no thanks to Laurel. I was honest with her, told her that I was a hunter and so were you, detailed what we did for a living as best I could, and waited for her to either run out of the room scared or beat the living hell out of me.  
She did neither. Lili contemplated it for a minute and then told me that it really didn’t surprise her with all the occult knowledge I had. She seems to be completely cool with it.” Sam had helped himself to his own beer.  
“It wasn’t Laurel’s fault, you know.” Dean spoke coolly.  
“That she ratted us out, Dean? It kinda seems like it was.” Sam shot his brother a look.  
“Sam…Laurel is possessed.” Dean breathed, setting his bottle down gently.  
“Wait, she is possessed? Or did you mean was?” Sam turned to look at the sleeping Laurel once more.  
“Inanna, Sammy. Inanna is one of the seals. Some idiots in the coven broke it and used Laurel as the vessel for this demon.” Dean seemed too level headed for Sam.  
“But the demon’s gone, right? I mean, she doesn’t seem possessed now, and I didn’t think you’d let her in your bed if she was.” Sam got out of his chair, and went to analyze Laurel.  
“Yes and no. Cas drove the demon out, but she’ll be back. She’s attached to Laurel, Sam, through a blood tie.” Dean sighed loudly and dropped his empty beer bottle in the garbage can.  
Sam turned away from Laurel abruptly to face Dean.  
“So, everything she said to Lilianna wasn’t her? It was Inanna? Godamn it. I guess this explains all the salt on the doorway and windows. I’m assuming there’s a devil trap under the rug?” Sam pointed at the door and Dean nodded.  
“Why don’t we just exorcise this thing?” Sam sat on the edge of his bed.  
“We can’t. They carved all these symbols into her, kind of like a reverse devil’s trap to help hold Inanna inside, and then they fed her the blood of a sacrifice. This demon is stuck with Laurel and she seems to think the only way to get rid of it is to destroy the vessel.” Dean was rubbing his forehead at some phantom pain.  
“Carved? There doesn’t seem to be a mark on her body.” Sam could see most of Laurel’s skin as she lay sleeping still.  
“She has this ability to heal. I thought it may have had something to do with her and Azazel as a child, like with what happened to you. Cas said that it isn’t a demon ability. Her healing the way she does made her perfect as a vessel. Apparently this demon is so strong, no average human could contain her without spontaneously combusting.” Dean had opted for a glass of Jack this time as he sat down next to his brother.  
Sam’s mind was blown, “Back up, Dean. What happened last night after you came home?”  
Dean began to tell Sam the story of the night before, and carefully detailed everything for his younger brother.  
Sam was dumbfounded as he listened to the retelling of the prior evening’s events. Another seal had been broken, bringing the apocalypse closer still, and Dean seemed to be overly emotionally invested in this seal.  
He had noticed that Laurel had begun to grow on Dean, and over the past week or so he had come to rely on her in many ways. It worried Sam that his brother had become so attached to a girl that would probably lose her life by the end of all this. It seemed to be the story of Dean’s life.  
“Make sense now?” Dean finished and poured himself another shot.  
“Too much. How did Castiel end up with Laurel again?” Sam’s head was a little muddled after all the information it had absorbed.  
“She called to him, Sam. I don’t get it either, it’s just what Cas told me” Dean was just as baffled.  
“Castiel isn’t exactly one of the better known Angels of the Bible.” Sam scoffed, snatching the whiskey bottle from Dean and pouring himself a bit.  
“You’re very correct, I’m not.” Castiel had appeared behind Sam and startled him badly.  
“Knock first!” He scolded as he downed a shot.  
“My apologies.” Castiel actually took a seat between the brothers, “I brought the paper to Bobby, but I forgot to use the front door.” Castiel moved his coat aside to reveal quite a few rips and holes in the front of his collared shirt.  
Sam made a face at the sight and Dean retorted, “I told you so. How did it feel to get pumped full of rock salt?” Dean was actually amused and chuckled a little.  
“Like salt, I suppose.” Castiel looked between the two brothers. “Bobby researched the sigils a bit while I was there. He said it’s very intense magic, but true Enochian always is. He also said it might be better to get Laurel out of Salem. The demon was summoned here and she’s still lurking in the area. Getting Laurel away may buy us some more time.”  
Dean contemplated Castiel’s suggestion for a minute. “I think Bobby’s would be our best bet. It’s fortified more than any other place I know of.”  
“True. We need to go soon. I don’t want to leave Lilianna behind, but she’s not going to be able to just up and leave.” Sam was concerned.  
“Stay with her then. I’ll take Laurel to Bobby’s. It may be better if you don’t leave Salem anyway. You can be my eyes and ears here while I try and figure out how to send this bitch back to hell.” Dean didn’t want to leave his brother behind, but he knew it might be a good idea.  
“What am I supposed to tell Lilianna about Laurel?” Sam really didn’t want to be caught in the middle of this.  
“Tell her we are splitting off in pairs and I have a lead elsewhere and I am taking Laurel with me for her in depth expertise of the occult.”  
“That’s not a half bad idea.” Sam was convinced, he knew Lilianna would be also.  
“It’s settled then. Cas, will you go help Bobby get things ready for us?” Dean questioned the angel.  
“Of course.” Castiel was gone.

 

* * *

 

Dean wasted no time in getting Laurel out of Salem. He had woken her up and debriefed her on the plan as she groggily climbed out of his bed and dressed herself.  
He took her back to the apartment so she could pack a bag and grab some necessities, and at least tell her sister goodbye; hoping that it wouldn’t be the last thing she ever said to her.  
“Dean, I need to get some stuff out of the Bel Air.” Laurel’s mouth was a thin line as she thought of her baby that now lay wrecked in a ditch.  
“Do you think it’s safe for you to go that close to the Coven grounds?” Dean was concerned, he didn’t know if Inanna was nearby.  
“I’ve got you to back me up, don’t I?” Laurel smiled meekly at Dean, but he knew how truly worn out she was.

 

Dean drove Laurel to the Bel Air and eyed her like a hawk as she unloaded as much as she could from the trunk of her car and into the trunk of the Impala.  
“My poor baby.” Laurel cooed as she ran her hand down the side of the crumpled metal.  
“We’ll find a way to get her out of here.” Dean comforted Laurel.  
“I know, we just don’t have time now.” Laure sighed and made her way to the hood of the car where she quickly drew a devil’s trap on the mangled hood in the thin layer of dirt that covered it from the crash.  
“No one will hurt you.” Laurel tuned her back on the last little memory she had of her father.  
After the two were safely buckled into the Impala, Dean turned to Laurel, “Are we ready?”  
She nodded and Dean took off in the direction of the highway. Within a day’s time they would be at Bobby’s and Dean could start figuring out how to save Laurel’s life.

 

* * *

 

They arrived at Bobby’s sooner than expected, about an hour before night fall, and Dean led Laurel up to the front door of Bobby’s rustic home.  
As Dean knocked, he glanced down at Laurel.  
She was standing there, shoulders hunched and eyes diverted towards the ground. She had slept fitfully at best, most of the ride and he knew that she had to be exhausted.  
Dean placed his hand on her back to comfort her as the door popped open and standing in front of them was veteran hunter, Bobby Singer.  
“Dean.” Bobby boomed and reached out to pull Dean into a tight bear hug. Dean smiled and returned the gesture.  
“And you must be…” Bobby turned to Laurel as she raised her head and looked at Bobby sadly.  
“Laurel.” She responded and outstretched her hand.  
“Son of a bitch.” Bobby whistled, eyes wide, as he smoothed his graying hair.  
“Laurel O’ Connell. Jesus Christ, I thought you were dead.” Bobby reached out and pulled Laurel to him in a mimic of his action towards Dean.  
Dean was confused, and by the look of it, so was Laurel.  
Bobby pulled her away from himself, and held her at arm’s length in front of him.  
“You look just like your mother, but you have your father’s strength.” Bobby smiled nostalgically.  
As if Laurel had been shocked by some invisible force, her expression changed from confusion to knowing.  
“Bobby. Bobby Singer. I had no idea that Dean was talking about you when he said ‘Bobby’. It’s been so long and my memory has gotten a little fuzzy after dad passed. I seemed to have pushed a lot of memories out of my head.” She smiled warmly and leaned forward to hug Bobby once more.  
“How long has it been, girl?” Bobby questioned, grabbing her military style bag and leading her into the house, leaving Dean dumbstruck on the stoop.  
“God, I think the last time was when I was twelve, after my first hunt.” The memory warmed Laurel to the core.  
“Ha, I remember. You came busting through that door, knife in one hand and a fistful of vamp teeth in the other. You were so damned proud, and so was your father. I thought he was going to burst.” Bobby boomed with laughter, as he patted Laurel on the back.  
“Those were great times.” Laurel smiled half heartedly as she sat in an overstuffed recliner.  
Dean had finally made his way into the vast open parlor of Bobby’s house and sat in a seat under the window.  
“You—you two know each other?” Dean pointed his finger between Bobby and Laurel accusingly.  
“I knew her parents before I even knew yours, Dean. Her dad was in incredible hunter, just like I’m sure Laurel is. I’m technically her god-father.” Bobby laughed at the surprised look on Dean’s face.  
Laurel let slip a half smile in response. Dean was entirely baffled.  
“Your dad and Jeremy were really good friends, too.” Bobby nodded knowingly.  
“I know that name.” Dean wrinkled his brow trying to think.  
“You guys never really had that much interaction with him as kids, but he showed up a few times when you and Sam were older. “  
“Dad went on that djin raid with him when I was 23. I remember now.” Dean seemed a little more at ease.  
“I stayed behind with Lili for that one. Dad was too worried. He said that me in the hands of a djin would have been bad.” Laurel sighed  
“And now we know why.” Bobby scoffed and came over to get a good look at Laurel.  
“Tell me everything. Tell me exactly what’s happened.” He was very calm with her.  
Laurel thought for a moment and began,  
“I was out on a confederate soldier hunt, when I caught wind of the disappearances in the coven. I was worried that something might have happened to Lili, so I stole a bike and made it up a state before I realized the cops were looking for me.  
I stopped at the nearest motel to ditch the bike and hopefully hitch a ride as far north as I could when I met the boys.” Laurel threw a knowing glance in Dean’s direction.  
“They were kind enough to let me ride with them.” She rolled her eyes.  
“Any way, I got back up to Salem, grabbed the Bel-Air and headed to see Lilianna. She was fine, thank gods, but I discovered that my little friends who told me they had family in Salem, were parading around in monkey suits in front of my sister.”  
Bobby began to laugh at this, “Oh, where fate has taken you.”  
“Fate?” Dean was irritated, “Hardly.”  
“Boy, you don’t think that the fact that your father and her’s were so close, that Azazel affected children in both families, that you happened to both be heading to the same hunt so to speak, isn’t fate? After all you’ve seen and been through, you are still a moron.” Bobby smacked Dean in the back of the head.  
“Any way, keep going.” Bobby prodded Laurel.  
“Over the course of a week, a lot of secrets came out. Dean and Sam were hunters, I was a hunter…and a witch. Lili is oblivious and somehow I gave in and became the embodiment of the Goddess for the Beltane rite.  
There were no actual disappearances in the coven; it was all a ruse to get me home.  
A select few in the coven evoked Inanna and then ritualistically placed her in my body.” Laurel’s eyes were distant now as she thought of the past week’s happenings.  
“Jesus Christ.” Bobby breathed and sat himself behind his desk.  
“Don’t worry, she’s not technically possessed now; Cas took care of that.” Dean folded his arms and huffed.  
“She’ll come back Dean, and when she does…you’ll have to kill me.” Laurel stared Dean down.  
“No, I won’t do that. Bobby can find something, some way to fix this, can’t you?” Dean turned to Bobby pleadingly.  
“She’s tethered, Dean. They are bound together, I don’t know if we can perform the type of magic that would be needed to sever this tie.” Bobby was concerned.  
“I’m not going to kill her! There’s no way I’m letting her go without a fight.” Dean jumped up from his chair and stormed out of the room and through the back door.  
Laurel wasn’t sure how to react. She just sat there, hands in her lap, staring at Bobby.  
“Go make sure he’s not destroying things out there. I’m going to try and do some research and see what I can find.” Bobby shooed Laurel.

 

(*)

Laurel found Dean sitting outside on top of a wrecked Chevelle, staring up at the night sky.  
“Bobby wanted me to make sure you weren’t tearing things up.” Laurel climbed up the frame of the car and sat herself next to Dean.  
He said nothing, just kept staring up at the stars.  
“Do you ever feel like you’re cursed, Laur?” He finally blurted, not taking his attention away from the sky.  
“I do wonder sometimes. I haven’t exactly had an easy life, but I believe there is a reason for everything.” Laurel said casually, scooting a bit closer to Dean.  
“So, you think there is a reason for you unnecessarily losing your life.” Dean turned to her, anger apparent on his face.  
“If it means that the demon goes down with me, then yes, I do. You of all people should understand sacrifice, Dean. I know that your father gave his life to save yours, and you gave yours to save Sam. There were reasons for all of it, and as shitty as it is, it’s playing itself out for a reason.” Laurel’s eyes shone brightly in the waning light of the moon.  
“I’ve lost too much in my life, Laur. Mom, Dad, Sam. Sacrificed being a normal person to help the greater good. I’ve lost almost everything that I have ever felt was important to me, and I’m not going to let this lifestyle take you away too.” This was an entirely different side of Dean. There was no panic like there had been the previous night, no pity or worry, just sheer anger.  
“I can tell you not to fight me about this, Dean, but I know better. You won’t listen and me telling you just to accept this will only fall on deaf ears.” Laurel took a deep breath and sighed.  
“You know me well.” Dean smirked sarcastically.  
“Yeah, because I know myself well. We kinda mirror one another, Dean.” Laurel was quick in her response.  
“I’ve noticed.” Dean slumped over on himself and placed his head in his hands.  
Laurel scooted even closer to him now so that their hips and shoulders were touching.  
She reached out and pulled his face from his hands, commanding him to look at her.  
“Remember when I told you to forget about me?” Her face was soft in the glow of the night, she looked almost child-like.  
“Yeah, I do. I thought it was a really odd thing to say.” Dean had diverted his total attention to Laurel.  
“I said that because I thought I had spelled you too well. When I wrote you that note at the motel, the bit I added about ‘don’t forget about me’, it was a sort of spell I guess you could say.  
I was hoping that it would make you change your mind about taking me with you, and I thought it worked. But you were getting so emotional over me, I realized that maybe it had worked too well. I knew that those feelings were because I made you feel them so I tried to take the spell back. But you only got worse.” Laurel was almost in tears. She had to be completely honest with Dean now because she didn’t know if she’d have the opportunity to do so later.  
“Laurel, did you ever stop to think that maybe it didn’t work at all? That maybe I feel this way, because I actually feel this way?” Dean couldn’t believe that she thought his emotions were her fault.  
“I didn’t like you at first, honestly you made me want to strangle you. But that was because I feared what I might feel for you. I knew you were more than just some random hitch hiking girl. Deep down I probably knew you were a hunter, and witch too, to some extent.  
But how I feel is because I allowed myself to feel that way. Thinking about you hurts me for some reason, it makes me ache in places that I didn’t even know existed. You’re a strange girl, Laur, and you cause emotions in me that are even stranger.” Dean never once took his eyes of Laurel.  
What was he saying? Laurel pondered this as she stared into the tortured abyss that was Dean’s eyes. Before she could open her mouth in response they heard a rustling behind them.  
Dean hopped up and spun himself around, pushing Laurel quickly behind him, only to find Castiel standing a few yards away.  
“Am I interrupting something?” Laurel almost thought she saw emotion on the Angel’s stoic face.  
“No, Cas, not at all. Perfect timing, as usual. “ Dean jumped down off the back of the Chevelle and offered to help Laurel, but she declined and vaulted off after him.  
“Find anything out?” Dean was hopeful.  
“I may have. Bobby is calling you, Dean.” Castiel spoke slowly.  
“I don’t hear anything.” Dean listened carefully.  
Just then he heard Bobby wailing at him from the back door to come help him with some if these ‘ancient texts’.  
“Damnit. Talk to Laurel about it, Cas. I’ll be back.” Dean excused himself and headed for the back door.  
“I know you didn’t find anything, Castiel. What do you want to talk to me about?” Laurel propped herself up against the side of another worn car.  
“How did you—“ Castiel began when Laurel interjected.  
“I can read you, Castiel, like an open book. Is that normal for human’s to be able to read your kind like that?” Laurel was a little cocky, a little irritated with Castiel. She felt like he was deliberately holding something back from her.  
“Angel’s don’t generally have emotions so, no that isn’t normal for a human. But you aren’t just any human.” Castiel propped himself up on the car next to Laurel.  
“What are you talking about?” Laurel had a knot in the pit of her stomach.  
“This,” He picked up Laurel’s right arm and pushed back the sleeve on her jacket to expose the cut Dean had given her, “This isn’t normal for a human. Did you ever wonder how you were able to heal the way you do?” Castiel let her arm drop, and stared up at the sky.  
“Dad said mom had the same ability. She was a very powerful witch, Cas.” Laurel stated, matter-of-factly.  
“That she was, but she was more than that, Laurel.” Castiel shook his head.  
“How would you know anything about my mother?” Laurel became overly defensive.  
“Why do you think your mother told you to call on me in times of fear and peril? I’m not exactly one of the most well known angels.” Castiel peered down at Laurel from under his brow.  
Laurel was baffled. Had her mother known Castiel somehow?  
“Cas, what are you trying to tell me?” Laurel’s question was slow and deliberate.  
Just then Dean came hurtling out the back door and straight up to them.  
“I think we may have found something.” His eyes were wide and bright; excitement apparent on his face.  
“We may need Cas for this, though.” Dean grabbed Laurel by the hand and dragged her inside, Castiel following closely behind the two.

 

* * *

 

When they entered Bobby’s house they could smell the distinct scent of frankincense and myrrh. Bobby had several old leather backed volumes opened up on the desk, a brass bowl swirling with smoke, and a fire lit in the fireplace.  
“What did you find, Bobby?” Castiel stood in front of the desk, leaning slightly so he could see what books were in front of him.  
“It’s an Enochian exorcism. This book doesn’t have the complete literature, however. It’s just an overview.” Bobby spun the book around so Castiel could get a better look.  
“We thought maybe if you took a look at it you may know the full rite.” Dean was propped on the desk, fiddling with a silver letter opener in anticipation.  
Laurel peeked around Castiel to get a better look at the ritual that lay before them. Before Castiel could say anything, Laurel interjected  
“This isn’t actually an exorcism, but it’s a possibility.” Laurel blurted as the three that stood before her stared in bewilderment.  
“It’s actually a severance ritual, but Bobby was right, it’s just an overview. All of these numerical sigils aren’t necessary either.” Laurel paused for a response from someone.  
“Uh, why not?” Dean questioned, amazed at Laurel’s intellect.  
“John Dee came up with the numerical use of Enochian so that human’s could try and comprehend the magic of Angels, in my opinion. But you don’t need some large mathematical equation to perform the magic.” Laurel picked up the book, and rounded the desk to the fireplace. She knelt down in front of the hearth and began to draw in the ash with a firepoker.  
“It’s the magick of the symbols, themselves. The energy of the angels is what created these, and it gave human sounds to a language that we can’t physically perceive.”  
Dean and Bobby’s mouths were agape while Castiel just stood there, a grin spread across his normally placid expression.  
“Any way, this specific ritual is to separate one person from another, as in a parasitic relationship, or a generational soul tie; it isn’t specifically meant for a demon/human bond.” Laurel finished the last symbol she was drawing and stood to face the men that surrounded her.  
Seeing the looks on their faces caused Laurel to raise a brow.  
“Did I say something wrong?”  
“Not at all. Good observation, Laurel.” Castiel came to take the book from Laurel.  
“I’ve got nothing.” Dean breathed, throwing his arms in the air. Bobby just shook his head in response.  
“There may be a way we can alter this and use it as some sort of exorcism.” Castiel thumbed over the pages.  
Laurel sat herself back down in the overstuffed recliner she had been in when she first arrived.  
“Can I borrow this?” Castiel held the book up slightly.  
“Sure. Do whatever it takes to figure something out, Cas. I don’t know how much time we have.” Bobby looked slightly worn.  
“Inanna will be back, but she’ll have to hunt for Laurel. Do whatever it takes to fortify her surroundings and keep Inanna away as long as possible. We need time, but time we do not have.” And Castiel was gone in a flurry of papers and resin smoke.  
Bobby heaved a heavy sigh, “Beer?”  
“Whiskey.” Dean responded and Bobby nodded in agreement.

 

(*)

The three sat around the front room for hours, downing shots of whiskey and reminiscing about old hunts and stories long forgotten.  
Surprisingly, Laurel was able to keep up with the drinking of the two men, and cleanly finished off two bottles of whiskey by 11:30.  
“Ugh, it’s been a while since I’ve drank like this.” Dean hung his head low over the table.  
“Quit being such a girl, Dean.” Bobby slightly slurred, leaned back in his chair.  
“Watch your tongue, old man.” Laurel shot daggers at Bobby, but her lips were curved into a mischievous smile.  
“I’m going to take a piss and then hit the sack.” Bobby rose from his chair, stumbled over to Laurel and patted her head. He then gave Dean a very weak punch to the arm and exited the room, waving his hand good night.  
Dean turned to Laurel after Bobby’s exit and spoke.  
“How you feeling?” He threw her that lopsided grin of his.  
“Fairly drunk, but not drunk enough to buy some cheesy pickup line of yours.” Laurel smirked and jokingly punched Dean in the chest.  
“I would never even think of such a thing.” Dean smiled slyly and rose from his seat.  
He stretched, flexing his tired muscles.  
These impromptu displays of his body had to stop; it made Laurel’s mind wander.  
Laurel blinked a couple times and then stood herself.  
“Tired?” She questioned as she made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water.  
“Surprisingly, not really. You must be exhausted.” He responded, following her.  
“Nope. I’m actually riled up; whiskey does that to me.” Laurel was speaking into the freezer as she scooped up a few ice cubes for her glass.  
When she shut the door, Dean was only inches from her face.  
“Riled up, eh?” His drunken behavior made his hazel eyes light up a fierce green.  
“Dean Winchester, quit hitting on me!” Laurel played, shoving him slightly.  
He stumbled back a pace, but quickly regained his balance and came forward, catching Laurel around the waist.  
“Does it make you uncomfortable?” He questioned, squinting slightly in thought.  
“I—I don’t know.” Laurel stuttered, looking down at her feet.  
“You know, Laurel, you are really beautiful. And that isn’t the alcohol talking.” Dean smiled, as he wove a finger into Laurel’s thick hair.  
Laurel sighed quietly and blushed, “I told you, cheesy pickup lines don’t work on me, Dean.”  
“I’m not trying to pick you up. If I was going to, I’d do this.” And without warning, Dean scooped Laurel up and set her on the kitchen counter.  
Out of surprise, Laurel wrapped her arms tightly around Dean’s neck and once she found herself in a stationary position again, she pulled back to look at Dean.  
“Not funny, Dean Winchester.” She huffed, smiling coyly.  
“Was it good for you?” He laughed and leaned in closer to Laurel’s face.  
“You could say that.” Laurel got quiet and just stared intently into Dean’s eyes.  
“Don’t be so scared. Everything happens for a reason.” Laurel could blatantly read the fear in his eyes.  
“That’s what I’m worried about.” He ran his fingers through Laurel’s hair, pulling back several long curls, exposing her collar bone. Just the sight of her smooth, pale skin made him quiver.  
Laurel cocked her head to the side and reached up to fiddle with Dean’s cowlick.  
“Have faith, Dean. For once, just have faith. Do you see me worrying?”  
“You’re more transparent than you think.” Dean scoffed.  
“To you maybe, but as I said earlier, we mirror each other.” Laurel smiled softly.  
Dean returned the grin, and leaned in closer, his face now inches from Laurel’s.  
“Just promise me something, Laurel. Promise me you’ll fight this. Don’t just let her take you. Make her suffer as much as you can, make her regret ever being in your body.” Dean brushed the hair out of Laurel’s shocking aqua eyes.  
“I promise. I won’t go quietly.” Laurel vowed, even though she had a sinking feeling that it would do her no good.  
The two were now quiet, just staring intently into one another’s eyes. Dean wanted to kiss her so badly, take her into his arms and hold her there as long as she would allow it. How would she respond? He didn’t know. Normally, women practically threw themselves at him, but not this one. She was strong, intelligent, beautiful, and a hunter. There was no seducing her without her permission.  
Laurel broke his though bubble with a pertinent question, “I wonder if Cas has found anything yet?”  
“He mentioned outside about having some sort of info; what was that about?” Dean questioned, remembering the Angel’s entrance out in the junk yard.  
“It really wasn’t anything. He just wanted to talk to me.” Laurel shrugged.  
“About what?” Dean began to question.  
“That isn’t of any importance at the moment, Dean.” Castiel was standing next to the counter on which Laurel sat.  
“What did you find?” Dean loosened his grip on Laurel and stood before Castiel.  
“Laurel was right. It was just an outline of a severance ritual. I was able to come up with most of it, but the ending I’m missing.” Castiel held out Bobby’s book to Dean.  
“Of course, the part we need the most.” Dean heaved a sigh and shrugged his shoulders, taking the book.  
“Don’t worry, Dean. Let me look at it and maybe I can figure it out.” She slipped the book from Dean’s hands and sat back down in the front room.  
“How does she know all this stuff?” Dean asked aloud to no one in particular.  
“She’s gifted in Enochian. So was her mother.” Castiel walked into the front room and Dean followed suit.  
“How do you…you know, I’m not going to ask an Angel how he knows anything.” Dean waved his hand, dismissing his question.  
“I think we need to substitute some of the herbs. We should use St. John’s Wort, Cubeb, and Rue. They will help draw the demon out and get rid of her. It also calls for another person to reconnect the severed soul. Only temporarily, though. Then we can banish the demon back to hell with a normal exorcism once it has been severed from the body.” Laurel was speaking aloud to herself as she scribbled foot notes in the margins of the worn paper Castiel had stuffed into the book.  
“We have to let her re-enter my body, however. We can’t sever the tie if she isn’t physically possessing me. Once we gather everything up and figure out everyone’s roles in this, we are going to have to go back to Salem. I’ll make her find me.” Laurel slammed the book shut.  
“Are you serious? What if she takes complete control?” Dean wasn’t so sure he liked the idea of inviting Inanna back into Laurel’s body.  
“If that’s what it takes Dean, then there is no other way.” Castiel took the book back from Laurel and began thumbing through the pages.  
“Castiel, can you get me everything that I wrote down in that ritual?” Laurel questioned the Angel.  
“Simply done.” He replied, scanning the list and then shutting the book.  
“The ending that we were missing in the ritual was simple, draw her back out of me and then reconnect someone else with my soul; that will break the tie that she has on me. The thing is, it has to be someone with either demon blood, or Hell blood.” Laurel was staring intently at Dean as she spoke.  
“Sammy has demon blood technically, but I don’t want to risk that…” Dean looked down at his feet, “What is ‘Hell Blood’, though?” Dean asked thoughtfully.  
“It’s blood that has been scorched by the flames of hell.” Laurel waited for her explanation to sink into Dean’s mind.  
Dean thought for a second and then his eyes lit up, “Like my blood?”  
Laurel pursed her lips and nodded, “Like your blood. It has to be similar to what was already connected with me or it won’t work.”  
“Is this safe?” Dean worried.  
“About as safe as having a demon connected to my body, but I know you won’t try to trigger the apocalypse using me.” Laurel joked, but there was seriousness in her tone.  
“Well, when you put it like that, I’m your man.” Dean smiled wryly.

 

“Perfect. So, I guess we are all set on this? Once Castiel gets me everything I need I can write up and draw out a more extensive version of the ritual so we will be fully prepared.” Laurel looked at the two men in turn, both nodded in agreement.  
“I’m going to get a head start on this.” Castiel slipped the book into a pocket inside his trench coat and was instantly gone.  
“Tired now?” Laurel questioned Dean as she sprawled herself out on the couch.  
“Yeah. And still slightly drunk. I’m pretty sure this has been one of the longest weeks ever for me.” Dean plopped down next to Laurel and propped his feet up on a nearby stool.  
“You regretting letting me hitch a ride with you?” Laurel joked darkly.  
Dean turned to her quickly and hooked his finger under her chin. He turned her face towards him, and came as close to her as his body would allow.  
“I regret nothing, Laurel. Especially meeting you. Even though you’ve screwed my head up so many times over the past week, I wouldn’t trade you for anything.” Dean’s tone of voice was so intense, it caused Laurel to draw in a sharp breath. She exhaled slowly.  
“I have to admit, I’m usually a solitary hunter, very much unlike my dad. But, considering the circumstances, I’m really glad that I have you with me. I don’t think I would have made it out alive if it wasn’t for you.” Laurel’s eyes were soft at this statement, almost dreamy.  
“Sounds to me like you’re having a little more faith about living through this.” Dean’s statement was unsure, but hopeful.  
“Even though I have Lilianna, I’ve felt that there isn’t much to live for any more. Then I met you, and I’ve seen all the hell you’ve been through, and yet you keep going. You fight for what you know is right, and you fight for what you love. You’ve made me realize that there still is a lot for me to fight for. I know I’m not alone in how I feel anymore.” Laurel started to tear up. All these feelings were tearing through her body again. Normally, Laurel cut off most emotions; it made it easier for her to hunt. But Dean made this almost impossible.  
Dean pulled Laurel close to him, wrapping his arms around her waist as she subtly laced hers around his neck, finally holding Dean tightly.  
“Promise me you won’t just disappear when all of this is over.” Dean choked out.  
“I promise, Dean. I may come and go, but I will never leave you.” Laurel whispered back into Dean’s ear. The soft, soothing sound of her voice and the words she spoke sent shivers up Dean’s spine.  
Even though he made her promise, fear was weaving its way into the back of his mind. What if the ritual didn’t work? What if he had to kill Laurel to save Salem and possibly more from the influence of such a demon?  
He didn’t want to go on the rest of his life without knowing Laurel in some intimate way. A permanent reminder of what a brilliant, beautiful soul she was. He hated thinking in this way, but with this job there were always a lot of “what ifs.”  
Dean could feel her softly breathing up against his neck. He turned and brushed her hair away from her face to find her sleeping gently, arms still wrapped tightly around him.  
“You’ll always be with me, Laurel. No matter what happens, I won’t ever forget you.” He whispered. The sound of his voice caused Laurel to stir and she turned her face towards his.  
This may have been the only chance Dean would ever get. He cocked his head to the side and brought his face closer than he ever had before, to Laurel’s.  
Quickly, he softly kissed her lips, trying not to linger too long. He knew the sensation would pull him in and he’d be lost forever.  
He pulled back and swore that he felt her return the kiss, but she was still sleeping soundly, and now lay curled up half in Dean’s lap, half on the couch.  
“Time for bed.” Dean spoke aloud to himself and tried to unlace Laurel’s arms from around him.  
When he did, she groaned in protest and squeezed tighter, clinging to Dean.  
“Laur. It’s time for bed.” He whispered at her.  
Her eyes fluttered open and she looked confused for a split second.  
“I have a bad feeling. We need to salt the windows and doors and put iron nails at the quarters, and a Devil’s Trap at the front and back door.” She muttered, seeming a little distressed.  
“Already done, doll, remember? Bobby and I did all that before we started drinking. You’re safe; I promise.” Dean tried to reassure her, stroking his fingers up and down her back.  
“Oh. Regardless, I still have a bad feeling. She’s getting closer, Dean.” Laurel was bleary eyed as she spoke and Dean couldn’t tell if her feeling came from just a bad dream, or if there was truth to them.  
“Tomorrow we will talk to Cas and make sure he has everything we need, then we can go back to Salem. I’ll call Sam and check up on your sister, too.” Dean reassured her as he laid her down on the couch.  
“Let’s just try and get some sleep first.”  
Dean tucked Laurel in and stood up, preparing to sleep in the recliner.  
“Please, stay here with me.” She pleaded, reaching out to grab Dean’s hand. She gently pulled him down next to her and snuggled up against him.  
“If it will make you sleep better.” Dean didn’t protest. He was too tired to argue with her.  
The two quickly fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of what would come in the days ahead.  
Would they make it out of this alive?

 

* * *

 

“Dean, DEAN, get up.” A rolled up newspaper collided with the top of Dean’s head.  
He shot up from the couch, ready to fight his attacker. Standing above him was Sam, with a worn, yet amused, expression on his face.  
“Son of a bitch, Sammy! What the hell are you doing here?” Amazingly, Sam’s brazen attempt to wake his brother hadn’t disturbed Laurel.  
Dean crawled over Laurel and stood in front of his brother.  
“I had to get Lili out of Salem. Victoria showed up at the shop late last night. She was furious, ranting about Inanna and Laurel. She was threatening to burn the shop down if we didn’t tell her where Laurel was.” Sam motioned to the seat under the window in the front room; Lilianna was perched on it, her face white as a ghost.  
“We couldn’t stay there. She sent Tristen off and told Victoria that Laurel had left town. Victoria stormed out, cursing us as she went. She knows that Inanna isn’t in Laurel’s body. Lili is beside herself about all of this. She made me come here; she demanded that Laurel tell her the truth about everything.” Sam was almost white himself.  
“I guess it’s time that I do.” Laurel had woken up now, and sat up from the couch, dread evident on her face.  
She rose and made her way over to her sister, kneeling down before her.  
“Lili, I’m so sorry.” She began, but Lilianna cut her off.  
“Save your apologies, Laurel. Just tell me what the hell is going on.” She narrowed her eyes angrily at her sister.  
“I’m—I’m a hunter, Lili. Just like Sam and Dean. All those years of traveling with dad, all those times I disappeared without a word, I’ve been hunting.” Laurel let the thought pour from her mouth in one long breath.  
“Why didn’t you tell me, Laur? We aren’t supposed to keep secrets from one another?” Lilianna screeched, becoming slightly hysterical.  
“It was for your own good! Do you have any idea how dangerous this job is? How even more dangerous it has become? I’ve got a demon attached to me, Lili! A demon that knows you, that knows me and everyone around us! I was trying to keep you safe.” Laurel was trying to keep herself calm, but it didn’t seem to be working.  
“But I could have helped you, or at the very least been there if you needed me.” Lilianna began to cry.  
“I know, hunny, I do. But I had to do this so nothing wouldn’t hurt you. It’s one of the many perks that comes with being a hunter.” She spat sarcastically, “I never wanted to lie to you, but I had to. I love you, Lili, and if anything ever happened to you because of my job, I would never be able to forgive myself.”  
Lilianna threw her arms around her sister’s neck and hugged her tightly.  
“I’ll be safe now, Laur. I have you and Sam, and even Dean. Just promise me you won’t keep anything from me anymore. We’re all in this together now.” Lilianna sobbed into her sister’s shoulder.  
“Never again.” Tears welled up in Laurel’s eyes as she gripped her sister in a strong hug.  
Sam and Dean cast a glance at one another in knowing. How hard it must be for the two girls in front of them, two sisters, to not be able to share everything with each other. They knew they couldn’t take their relationship as brothers for granted any more.  
When the scene had died down enough Sam began to speak,  
“Dean, dad’s journal is missing.”  
“No, it’s in the glove compartment of the Impala.” Dean waivered in his speech, he wasn’t entirely sure if it was there or not.  
“I hadn’t seen it in a while and that’s what I thought too, but I checked when I got here. It wasn’t in the hotel room, or the car. I have no idea where it is. I was going to take a look inside and see if maybe dad has any information that could help us with Laurel.” Sam seemed frantic, but he was trying to keep it together.  
“I—I have no idea where it is Sammy…This is a big problem.” Dean sat himself down on the edge of the couch.  
“Dean…” Laurel began, letting go of her sister and standing.  
“When you took Inanna to breakfast a few days ago, did you leave her alone in the car?” Laurel questioned.  
“For a moment when I was dropping you, uh, her off at the apartment. Why?” Dean’s interest was piqued.  
“What if she took it? What if the book is back at Lili’s apartment?” Laurel had a pertinent point.  
“There may have been something in there, like Sam said, and she knew it.” Laurel’s perceptiveness could give them a leg up.  
“We need to get back to Salem as soon as possible.” Dean began to put his shoes and jacket on.  
“Wait, have we heard anything from Cas yet?” Laurel began to follow Dean’s actions in getting herself ready.,  
“He’s an angel, Laur. He’ll find us when we need him.” Dean threw his jacket on and fished his keys from the pocket.

After they were prepared to leave, Dean found Bobby out in the junkyard and made him privy to what was going on. They said their goodbyes, loaded up and headed out for the long drive back to Salem.

 

* * *

 

After a full day’s drive, the four returned to Salem, eager to find John Winchester’s journal, and eager to get rid of Inanna.  
Dean parked the car in front of the Faerie Moon, when Lilianna noticed that something didn’t look right.  
Laurel leapt out of the car first, and held her hand up, signaling to everyone that she could sense something out of place.  
The warm sun of May had started to dwindle and slowly crept into twilight. Laurel could see a strange shadow cast on the shop in the dim rays of evening sunlight.  
“Someone has been here; or still is.” Laurel walked quietly up to the shop door and placed her hand on the glass. Instantly a sensation of pure darkness and swirling energy overwhelmed her. Victoria and Horus had been here under the shroud of night, bringing the remnants of Inanna’s being with them.  
“Victoria and Horus were here, Inanna was with them in a sense.” Laurel pulled her hand back from the glass and stared into the shop, trying to feel for anything else.  
“Oh my Gods.” Lilianna gasped, turning to Sam for comfort.  
“They aren’t here now, but I think they came looking for the Journal.” Laurel relaxed, letting her guard down and pulled lightly on the front door of the shop. It opened with ease.  
“And they didn’t lock up after they left.” She spat.  
Laurel walked inside first, even though her cohorts begged her not to, and flicked on the light. The shop looked like it had when they left.  
“I need you guys to salt every door and set up Devil’s Traps. I’m going to hunt around a bit and make sure those dicks didn’t leave anything behind.” Laurel directed as she wondered off into the back of the shop.  
Dean and Sam returned to the Impala for a moment and reappeared in the shop with a burlap sack full of salt and a few red spray paint cans.  
“Get to work.” Dean tossed a can of spray paint in Lilianna’s direction, and handed one to Sam as he set off to salt every possible doorway in the shop.

Laurel felt around for anything out of place. Any moved objects or wall hangings askew. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d fine, if anything, but she wouldn’t put it past Victoria and Horus.  
She had made her rounds in the shop itself, not finding anything out of the ordinary then headed up to the apartment.  
When Laurel opened the door, she was almost blown away by what she felt. Thousands of tiny sigils and seals were imprinted on the walls, floors, and counter tops in a form that she could not see, but she felt it strongly.  
As she made her way to her bedroom, the seals became stronger, almost pushing her backwards in her steps.  
She fought their power and burst through her doorway. The room was in neat order, just as she’d left it, but something was missing.  
They had the book and she knew it. Trying to cover their tracks and hopefully force Laurel into taking back Inanna sooner than later, wasn’t going to work; despite their magickal efforts.  
Laurel made her way back down into the shop where Dean was salting everything possible and Lilianna and Sam were covering the doorways with the traps.  
“It’s gone. The journal was here, but they took it. The whole apartment is covered in warding symbols and seals to cause confusion and chaos. Don’t come up here until I’ve dealt with them.” Laurel stood on the main staircase as she barked her orders.  
The three stopped what they were doing and stared blankly at Laurel for a moment. This was a side of Laurel Dean had never seen before. The look in her eyes spoke novels to him, showing her emotions of fear, anxiety, and anger. He nodded and went back to work; Sam and Lilianna followed shortly after.

Laurel came to the top of the stairs in front of the apartment door. Everything had begun to hit her at once. She had been possessed, and in some fashion she still was. There was also a possibility she would lose her life from this and leave behind everything that she had strove for; everything that she loved. These could be her final hours. As she began to panic she could hear a small voice in the back of her head whisper, ‘Call on Castiel. He will always come.’  
“Castiel, where are you?” She began to cry as she slowly turned the doorknob to the apartment.  
As she pushed the door open, she felt a lifting sensation deep inside her and there stood Castiel, waiting for her on the other side.  
“This place is full of Enochian wards.” His brow was furrowed more than possible.  
“Cas,” She breathed and rushed forward, throwing her arms around the Angel.  
He just stood there, not quite sure what his reaction should be.  
“We need to get rid of these, Laurel. Right away.” He looked down at her and gently brushed the back of her head with his fingertips.  
“I know, will you help me?” She looked up at him, eyes glistening.  
“Always.” He whispered and then interjected, “I’ve found everything that we need for the ritual.” He patted his jacket.  
“Then let’s get started.” Laurel pulled away from the Angel and began take the wards down as he followed behind her, making sure that she saw it through till the end. He could feel that she wanted to give up, but he wasn’t going to let her. 

 

(*)

“Everything look good?” Dean questioned when Laurel reappeared on the stairs, Castiel at her heels.  
“They’re all gone. Cas has everything we need for the ritual.” Laurel brushed herself off and came to stand near the boys and Lilianna, whose eyes were as wide as saucers.  
She was staring at Castiel, completely baffled.  
“Oh, Lili, this is Castiel.” She threw a thumb behind her in Castiel’s direction.  
“Pleasure to meet you?” Lilianna extended her hand towards Castiel, questionably.  
Cas mimicked the gesture and responded, “Yes, pleasure.”  
Lilianna drew her hand back, bewilderment plastered on her face.  
“Any way…” Laurel drew out her words, “I need to sit down and write up a full ritual, make sure that there are no holes in the texts or anything. I’m still going out on a limb for this.” Laurel was holding the book from Bobby’s in one hand and an ancient clay container in the other. She took these items and wandered off behind the curtains to the tarot rooms.  
Dean could tell that Laurel’s demeanor had changed. She was losing faith and he had to go talk to her; had to make her believe that everything would be alright.

“Laurel?” Dean peeked his head through the curtain to the back room. Laurel had the book and several pages of parchment, along with the container that she had been holding that Dean now saw held several bundles of herbs and some berries, sprawled out on a small table.  
“Hey Dean.” She spoke softly, never diverting her eyes from the book and whatever it was that she was scribbling down on the parchment.  
“I know you’re scared, but don’t worry. I’ll find a way to get you out of this.” Dean spoke gently, sitting across from Laurel.  
“No you won’t, Dean. If this doesn’t work, nothing will.” Laurel was curt.  
“Don’t talk like that. There are always alternatives.” He tried to reassure her.  
“Not with this. Either this ritual works, or I have to die, Dean. Plain and simple. We can’t fuck around with this.” Laurel’s pitch rose.  
“I’m not going to kill you, Laurel. I’ve told you this.” Dean was becoming stern.  
Laurel finally looked up from what she was doing. Her expression was like stone.  
“If this doesn’t work and my life isn’t ended as a result, the consequences from this could be dire. This is one of the seals to set Lucifer free and it’s already been broken. Do you want a demon like this running rampant all over the place, making the situation worse? I would hope not, because that is what you are suggesting. This is for the greater good, Dean. The world as a whole depends on it.” Laurel was trying to keep her cool.  
“You just don’t get it. I can’t kill you. Even if I wanted to I couldn’t. I can’t take your life, Laurel.” Dean began when Laurel cut him off.  
“You have to. It may be the only way.” She was so sincere and commanding it startled Dean.  
“What if it was me? What if I was in your position? Would you kill me? Could you kill me?” Dean was hoping for a positive answer, some sign that she cared.  
“Yes, yes I could. If it meant saving Salem, and possibly the world, from hell on earth, then yes I would.” Laurel blatantly lied, but through Dean’s wounded emotions he didn’t see this.  
“I guess you have more balls than I do. Maybe you’re right. Maybe you will have to die if this doesn’t work, but it won’t be by my hand.” Dean shoved his chair back and exited the room, heated, leaving Laurel in her own hell.  
(*)

Laurel stood to the side of the shop smoking, agitated with what she had said to Dean. She had to lie to him, however, because he just wouldn’t stop with the nonsense about not killing her if it had to come to it. She would not let her sister know of any of this, for it would kill her in more ways than one.  
She tried to hold herself together, there was no use in her getting emotional over what may happen, it would only complicate things.  
“What happened, Laurel?” A voice spoke from the alley way next to the shop.  
“Dean just doesn’t get it, Cas. He can’t let me live if all of this goes wrong” Laurel spoke forward to the Angel behind her. His appearance hardly startled her.  
“He seriously thinks that he can find some other way to save me. He even asked if he was in my position what would I do.” Castiel had now come to stand close to Laurel.  
“And what did you say?” Cas inquired.  
“I told him yes. I said I would kill him if it came down to it.” Laurel flicked her cigarette into the street and lit up another.  
“You wouldn’t kill him, Laurel.” Castiel was blunt.  
Laurel turned to look up at the tall Angel and his audacity to suggest that she wouldn’t, but he knew the truth.  
Laurel let the tears flow as she spoke now, “ I couldn’t. I lied to him because he just wouldn’t stop. He’s right, of course he’s right, but there is no room for right and wrong in regards to this anymore.” Laurel let her cigarette fall to the ground and she leaned into Castiel. Even though he was not known for showing affection, he loosely draped his arm around her shoulder.  
“Will you kill me, Cas? I know you understand the importance of this.” Laurel covered her face with her hand trying to hide the tears that were streaming down her face.  
“I’m not even going to entertain that ridiculous notion, Laurel.” Castiel handed her the handkerchief from his coat pocket.  
“Then I’ll have to do it myself. If I wasn’t going to hell before, I sure as hell will now.” Laurel joked darkly, wiping her tears.  
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, Laurel.” Castiel ignored her joke in bad taste, turned to her and knelt low to the ground. He had to tell her that there was a way for her to survive this.  
His action confused Laurel.  
“What is it, Cas?”  
“It’s about your mother.” He responded and waited in silence as Laurel let the statement sink in.  
“My mother?”

 

* * *

 

“Where the hell have you been?” Dean was frenzied as Laurel and Castiel entered the front  
of the shop.  
“I’ve been talking to Castiel.” Laurel’s face seemed different, almost lit up, but not out of excitement or happiness. It was more subtle than that.  
“We were all getting worried. I even came looking for you. You can’t ju—.” Laurel put her finger to Dean’s lips, signaling for him to be quiet.  
“I have an angel on my side, Dean. Everything is ok.” She removed her finger from his lips and slid her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.  
“What did you do to her, Cas?” Sam questioned as Dean looked at Laurel, baffled, and then returned the unexpected hug.  
“She and I had a long talk about faith and fate.” Castiel shrugged.  
“I’m ready to do this. Everything is written down and sorted out.” Laurel loosened her grip on Dean and spoke up to him.  
“So, what’s our next move then?” Dean questioned.  
“I have to let Inanna have me again, but I promise you I will fight even if it kills me.” Laurel spoke as Dean winced at the end of her affirmation.  
“Then we need to go where they summoned her originally. Put her back the way she came into the world. That’s where you all come into play. You have to set up the space the way I specified in this ritual.” Laurel handed a piece of parchment to Sam. He scanned it quickly and arched an eyebrow.  
“You have to drink Dean’s blood?” Sam made a funny face.  
“That’s really the only way to connect us, to tie him to me. I mean, it was either that or sex, and I’m pretty sure we don’t have time for that.” Laurel ranted, waving her hand in the air.  
Dean’s eyes widened at her statement, and he coughed, trying to keep himself from saying something he shouldn’t.  
“And how are you going to get Inanna to the circle?” Sam questioned, re-reading the parchment.  
“Easy. She has to go back there. It’s part of her plan.” Laurel was casual, as if she knew this all along.  
“Plan?” Dean questioned. He knew the demon would be up to no good, but until now Laurel had mentioned nothing of a ‘plan’.  
“She’s going to use my body to open a gate right there in that very circle. It’s pretty much set up for her already. She wants to unleash hell on Salem; kind of like an apocalypse pre-party.” Laurel pursed her lips, mulling over all this information, trying to find a way to explain all of it.  
“Son of a bitch. How do know what her plans are all of a sudden?” Dean was suspicious, but he gave her an opportunity to speak.  
“It was in my head all along; Cas just helped me tap into it. We’re still connected so I know what she knows. Funny thing is, she can feel me, but she has no control over my mind. When she was in my body, she’d just push me to the back and take the driver’s seat, but she couldn’t make me do anything. I’m stronger than her, and I will destroy her.” There was a new fire in Laurel’s eyes that Dean had never seen before. It was beautiful, yet frightening all at the same time. A new found confidence.  
“Well, then, that settles it. So, basically we are tearing down the circle that Victoria created and replacing it with our severance one. You’ll show up with Inanna, enter the circle to open the gate and start the party and then…” Dean was waiting for her response.  
“You’re going to enter the circle. I’m going to have to fight Inanna while Lilianna keeps anyone else from coming into the circle. Cas will have to chant the Enochian to draw Inanna out of my body while the herb mixture that I made burns, and I need a lot of smoke to come from it. Once she is drawn out, Sam will have created a devil’s trap to contain her. Then I have my spell to say, and Dean, you will have to repeat me. Then I will drink the blood, connect you to me, sever that bitch from my body, and we can exorcise the whore.” Laurel’s explanation of the plan was surprisingly thorough without having gone into extreme detail. She actually seemed confident about the whole thing.  
“Sounds easy enough.” Sam scratched his head, wondering how they were going to execute this plan smoothly enough to pull it off.  
“Don’t worry, Sam. I’ve got this under control.” Laurel patted Sam on the back and he just stared at her; words failed him.  
Dean had noticed her odd behavior, but couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.  
She stormed out of the shop over an hour ago, losing faith and losing heart, but when she returned it was as if she were renewed. He could tell that she now believed she would come out of this alive. It was one extreme emotion to another, and Castiel seemed to be the solution.  
Now wasn’t the time to question it, however. They had a demon that needed to be sent back to hell.  
“It’s almost midnight. Inanna is planning on opening the gate at three. I need to leave soon. She’s expecting me.” Laurel rounded up a few things in the shop and dumped them in her bag, handing them to Lilianna.  
“Here is everything we’ll need for this. I’m going to go ahead and head up to the Coven; all of you leave in about an hour. There’s no time to worry over whether it’s being done correctly. You have Cas to help and you have faith. This is going to work.” Laurel believed in every word that poured from her mouth. She was confident. Almost too confident. And it was beginning to worry Dean. Was this the real plan or had she given everyone a job to do so that they would be distracted from what was really going to happen?  
Laurel readied herself to leave when Dean caught her by the door.  
“Don’t do anything stupid.” Dean chided her.  
“Everything will be ok, Dean. I promise.” Laurel stood on her tip toes, grabbed Dean’s face gently, and kissed his forehead.  
“Everything happens for a reason.” Laurel winked at him and disappeared through the door of the shop and into the night.  
“She’s going to do something stupid.” Dean sighed, turning back to the motley crew they had now created to exorcise a demon: two hunters, a witch, and an angel. Dean chuckled a little bit at the bad joke that played itself in his head.  
“Let’s make sure we have everything in order. I want this to go down without a hitch.” Dean directed. And by “without a hitch”, he meant that everyone should be prepared for Laurel to switch up the plan.  
He was almost sure that she was going to play the martyr in this, and he had to be prepared.

 

* * *

 

“She’s close.” A lilting voice hissed in Victoria’s ear. Victoria drew in a deep breath and spoke, “Are you sure this isn’t some sort of trap?” Victoria was beyond anxious over the arrival of Laurel.  
“I’ve been beckoning to her, possibly even driving her a little mad from all that I’ve said to her from afar. Even if this is some sort of trap, they don’t have the power to do anything to me.” Inanna’s voice was like velvet as she spoke to Victoria.  
“You’re right, mistress. What could a girl like that do to a powerful being such as yourself.” Victoria agreed, but she still wasn’t sure.  
“It’s getting close to the hour. Where is Laurel?” Horus was pacing back and forth in Victoria’s chambers, biting his already too short nails.  
“Soon, she will be here soon.” Victoria scolded. She could tell that Horus’s childish whining was starting to wear thin on Inanna.  
“Aaah, she’s here!” Inanna hissed at Victoria, “Bring her in at once.”  
“There’s no need.” Victoria looked up from her daze as Inanna spoke to her to see Laurel standing in the doorway.  
“So, you’ve decided to come back to us.” Victoria rose from her seat and strode up to Laurel, caressing her face when she got to her.  
“I couldn’t stay away. The promises that Inanna made to me were too great. A whole new life, just by giving in. I’m so tired with this one.” Laurel let her eyes drop to the floor in mock sadness.  
“Well you will have a whole new life soon.” Victoria held her hand up against Laurel’s chest and a heat as scorching as the sun could be felt radiating through her body.  
Inanna had been piggy backing on Victoria, knowing damn well that she wouldn’t last a second inside her body, for fear of it bursting into flames.  
Laurel could feel her body filling up with darkness for the second time in one week. Inanna surged through her, making sure that she enveloped every last bit of Laurel.  
As the last drop of black smoke coursed through her, Laurel collapsed to the ground in a heap, lying motionless at the feet of Victoria, and now Horus.  
“My queen?” Victoria said quietly, bending down low over Laurel.  
Laurel’s back arched as Inanna stretched; testing the skin of her vessel. Just as perfect as ever.  
“Ah, yes, I almost forgot what it felt like to be in here. Such a perfect vessel.” Inanna ran her hands over Laurel’s body in adoration.  
“Now, it is time for your gift, Victoria.” Inanna uttered as she stood, fire in her eyes.  
“Yes, Mistress. Thank you. Thank you.” Victoria bowed low.  
Inanna reached down and withdrew Laurel’s hunting knife from her boot. With Victoria still bowed low, she’d never see it coming. Horus didn’t say a word as he saw the knife unsheathed. He knew what Victoria’s gift would be.  
“Because you have been so loyal to me, Victoria, I won’t let you suffer when I open the gates and unleash such pleasurable pain on this world.” Inanna laughed softly.  
Inanna embraced Victoria with one arm and commanded that she look up at her. Victoria’s face was glimmering with anticipation, making the action about to be performed so much sweeter for Inanna.  
With her other hand, Inanna plunged Laurel’s knife deep into Victoria’s sternum, twisting it ever so slightly when the hilt met bone.  
Victoria’s face twisted into a horrified grimace as she clutched at her heart with one hand and at Laurel’s jacket with the other.  
“Wh—why?” She gurgled, her eyes glassy as she began to spit up blood.  
“As I said, I’m saving you from the chaos that will ensue once I open the gate.” Inanna plucked Victoria’s fingers from her jacket and let her slide to the floor, gasping her last breath as she did so.  
Inanna poked the body with the toe of Laurel’s boot, ensuring that she was indeed dead, and then turned to Horus.  
“Time?” She questioned.  
“Almost 1:30. We need to gather everything to prepare for the gate.” Horus smiled deviously and outstretched his arms to Inanna.  
She slithered up to him and draped her arms around his waist, laying her head gently on his bare chest, planting kisses on his collar bone as he raked his fingers down her back.  
“One last go before we unleash hell on this silly little town?” Horus asked eagerly.  
“There is no time for that, love. We can celebrate later.” She nipped his lower lip with her teeth and he hungrily returned the gesture with a kiss.  
“Tonight will be the beginning of a new world. And they said I wouldn’t succeed.” Inanna laughed maniacally .  
Horus smiled down at her and nodded, as the two made their way out of Victoria’s chambers to ready themselves for their final ritual.

 

* * *

 

“It’s so damn dark out here. I can’t see a—uh!” Dean was complaining about the low visibility in the forest as he tripped over a rotting log, almost landing flat on his face.  
He got up and brushed himself off, cussing under his breath.  
“How is it that we could only find one working flashlight?” He roared trying to keep up with the rest of the group.  
“Because that is just our luck, Dean.” Sam laughed at his brother.  
“Quit complaining, Dean. The circle is just through these trees. I can feel the sigils.” Castiel directed him in the opposite direction that he was heading.  
“I knew that.” Dean muttered and followed Castiel until they came to a break in the trees. No sooner had they passed through when they could feel the earth buzzing.  
“It’s getting close, they should be here in the next half hour or so.” Lilianna set the bag that Laurel had given her on top of the stone altar and began pulling ingredients out for the ritual.  
“Sam, you help Lilianna prepare the herbs for incense, I’m going to start destroying these old symbols and marking out the new ones.” Castiel ordered, as he began his walk of the circle, speaking Enochian quietly under his breath,  
“What am I supposed to do?” Dean questioned, noting that there was no task set for him.  
“You just prepare yourself for what’s to come. Tying yourself to Laurel will not be a comfortable experience.” Castiel pointed to the base of a tree, wanting Dean to sit and wait.  
“Of course.” Dean sat himself down, thinking of what was to come.  
He was worried about Laurel above all. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was up to something. Would she be able to control Inanna and complete the ritual that would ultimately sever their souls, or would she end up having to die for the greater good? Dean didn’t want to think about the later of the two options.  
He watched intently as Castiel destroyed each and every sigil that had been in the circle and strategically placed the new ones for the ritual to come.  
The moon broke through rifts in the trees and several times Dean swore he could see the sigils that Castiel was drawing out invisibly, shining a pure blue in the ground.  
This whole Enochian business was starting to muddle his head.  
“Finished, how’s everything going with you two?” Castiel drew the last symbol and turned to Lilianna and Sam.  
“All done here.” They assured Castiel, backing away from the altar.  
“Good, because they are coming.” Castiel backed out of the circle and beckoned the other three to follow him as they hid in some low lying bushes to the north of the circle.

“What a perfect evening to raise some hell.” Horus’s voice echoed through the forest.  
“Indeed it is.” Dean could hear Laurel’s voice emanating from a patch of trees, but he knew it wasn’t her that was speaking.  
From a clearing opposite to where they were hiding, appeared Laurel and Horus, hand in hand, heading for the circle.  
Dean’s blood boiled at this sight and he tried to keep his cool as he watched the scene.  
“Stay out of the circle, dear Horus. I don’t want you to get caught up in the gate.” Inanna slid her fingers out of Horus’s grip and entered the circle. She was dressed in one of Victoria’s slinky dresses, this one colored a deep midnight blue and obviously far too long for Laurel’s height. Her hair was done up high on her head, and her curls cascaded down past her shoulders.  
Laurel raised her arms to the sky, and breathed deeply. She then lowered them to the ground, and placed her hands, palms down, into the earth.  
Before she had a chance to utter a word Castiel signaled for Dean to enter the circle and take hold of Laurel’s body; she would need something to remind her of who she was.  
Dean’s movement was so quick that Horus didn’t have time to react and Dean collided with Laurel, tackling her to the ground.  
“Let go of me, you fool!” Inanna shrieked, shoving Dean off of her and scrambling to her feet.  
“Notice anything different about your circle?” Dean spoke darkly, ready to pounce on Laurel again.  
“You idiot, what have you done!” Inanna wailed raising her arm, palm out. This action sent Dean flying backwards into the stone altar.  
It made a sickening crack when Dean’s body made contact with it, but Dean wasn’t going to let the throbbing pain in his body keep him from protecting Laurel.  
He rose up as quickly as he could and began to speak, “Laurel, I know you’re in there. Don’t let her control you. You have to live through this.” Dean charged forward at Inanna as she began to raise her hand again, but stopped.  
Her shoulders rose and fell and her muscles flexed in the darkness. Inanna began to choke and called out to Horus.  
“My love, ugh, please, stop…them.” Inanna clutched her throat, then her midsection. Laurel was fighting her tooth and nail.  
“I don’t know what to do!” Horus panicked, not daring to step into the circle, for fear of what Inanna had said only moments earlier.  
“You idiot, save, aaaaaaah, uh, save me!” Inanna screamed, but Horus still refused to step into the circle, fear of what might happen holding him in place.  
“Worthless!” Inanna spit and meekly shot out a hand in Horus’s direction. Instantly Horus’s eyes rolled in the back of his head, and he fell to the ground, dead.  
“Laurel, fight harder.” Dean whispered into the night, keeping his distance from Laurel’s body.  
For a split second Laurel’s body made eye contact with Dean, and he could see Laurel through them. She was almost completely in charge and he assumed Inanna was weak enough to be forced out.  
“Now!” Dean barked, ordering Lilianna to burn the herbs. She emerged from the bushes and pulled out a large metal bowl full of leaves and kindling, and quickly ignited them.  
She tossed all of the herb mixture on it at once, and a thick gray smoke bellowed from the bowl.  
Laurel screamed as the smoke and acrid scent of the herb mixture filled the circle.  
Dean took this opportunity to pull Laurel’s body close to the altar, into the Devil’s trap that Sam had spray painted on the ground and then covered in leaves.  
“Laurel, please tell me you’re here.” Dean pleaded as Laurel whimpered.  
The whimpering stopped abruptly and Dean could feel Laurel’s nails dig into his forearm as he held her in the trap.  
She looked deep into Dean’s eyes, breathing heavily and uttered,” I’m ready.”  
Dean withdrew his knife from his belt loop and drug it up his arm, splitting the skin and letting his blood run down to his wrist.  
Laurel took his arm and drew it to her mouth, drinking deeply from the wound.  
The sensation of her lips and teeth on his skin made Dean’s mind reel. He closed his eyes trying to focus.  
Laurel then began to speak, “Repeat what I say.” And she began to recite some ancient Enochian incantation. The words emanated deeply from her chest and every time she paused, Dean repeated what she said.  
When the last syllable had been spoken, Laurel’s head shot back and Inanna howled from within her.  
“Get out of the trap, Dean!” Laurel commanded, but Dean didn’t move.  
“Castiel, get him out of here!” She wailed again, as Cas came up behind Dean and plucked him out of the circle.  
Laurel doubled over, clutching herself tightly as Inanna was being detached from her body.  
Dean watched for what seemed like hours, but could have only been minutes, as Laurel and Inanna struggled with one another.  
Why hadn’t the demon been ejected from her body? That’s the whole reason for Laurel having to drink his blood. But there she was, still suffering.  
Finally Laurel pulled herself upright and faced away from the Altar. She withdrew a knife from the folds of her dress, one of the strangest knives Dean had ever seen.  
“Go back to hell, you bitch.” Laurel spoke through gritted teeth, and then plunged the knife deeply into her gut.  
The scene that unfolded after that felt like a dream to Dean.  
He screamed into the night, wanting to go forth and scoop Laurel up out of the circle, but something held them in place.  
Dean could see Lilianna on the other side of the circle, her actions almost mimicking Dean’s and she too could not move. Sam just stood there out of shock, eyes wide and watery.  
Laurel’s body fell slowly to the ground as Castiel strode up to the circle, waiting.  
As the last little life seeped from Laurel, a dark cloud of black shot from her mouth and swirled into the air, trapped in the herbal smoke that was getting thicker still above them.  
Castiel held his hands to the sky and began to call out in Enochian. The words were much slower than what Laurel had spoken, the fragments of speech much more drawn out.  
As he spoke the black smoke swirled every which way, fighting for a way out of the prison they all had created.  
Slowly the black cloud lowered itself to the ground and with Castiel’s final words a high pitched screeching could be heard and the earth absorbed what was left of Inanna.  
At that moment Dean was free of what had been holding him in place and he ran forward into the devil’s trap, scooping Laurel up into his arms.  
He could hear Lilianna sobbing as Sam held her close, attempting to console something he could not.

“I knew it. I knew you were up to something.” Dean sobbed angrily, cradling Laurel’s limp body in his arms.  
“Look what you’ve done.” He screamed at her body and then turned to Castiel, “You knew she was going to do this, Cas, and you didn’t stop her!” He wailed at the angel.  
“Have faith, Dean.” Castiel’s expression was stoic.  
“Have faith? She’s dead, Cas!” Dean’s shirt and jacket were now soaked with Laurel’s blood.  
“It was the only way, she omitted that part of the ritual to save you all some grief. She didn’t want there to be any second thoughts about what had to be done.” Castiel knelt down next to Dean, and placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder.  
“Don’t. You can’t fix this, so don’t even try and console me.” Dean threw off Castiel’s comforting hand.  
Dean pulled Laurel up even closer to him and began to whisper to her.  
“I never got to know you better, and I regret ever having treated you like I did. You are the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on.” Dean cried silently now, letting his tears run down Laurel’s body.  
Castiel looked towards the heavens for a moment, and mumbled something inaudible.  
As Dean gripped Laurel tightly, he swore that he felt her chest rise and fall, as if she were breathing.  
This hallucination made him cry even harder; for a split second he thought she was still alive.  
“I told you, have faith, Dean.” A voice rose to Dean’s ears, but it wasn’t Castiel’s like he would have assumed.  
He looked down to Laurel. Had she spoken? Or was he just hearing the words that she had told him several times over the past few days.  
“Dean.” There it was again; Laurel’s voice, but this time it was accompanied by her soft hand to his face.  
He looked down again to find Laurel staring up at him, life in her eyes.  
“Son of a bitch.” Dean breathed as Laurel laced her arms around Dean and hugged him tightly.  
Lilianna gasped as she saw her sister move and rushed forward into the circle.  
“Baby!” She breathed and pulled Laurel from Dean’s grip, hugging her and sobbing from sheer joy.  
Dean stood, baffled, and backed himself up till he was next to Castiel.  
“How?” He sighed, watching the joyous reunion of the sisters.  
“She did heaven a favor and they returned it. I told you, she told you; just have faith, Dean. Humans are rewarded by heaven for that, no matter what they believe in.” Castiel spoke quietly as they watched Sam join in, and hug Laurel.  
Everything was going to be ok, despite Dean’s non-belief.  
Still, the fact that Laurel sat before him, alive after taking her own life to save the greater good, astounded him and he bowed his head in silent contemplation.

 

* * *

 

The next morning went by slowly. After the evening’s prior events everyone came back to settle in at Lilianna’s and revel in the fact that they survived through their ordeal.  
Dean spent most of his time alone on the balcony, holding the crystal pendant Laurel had tossed to him only a few days ago, not quite sure what to say to Laurel, or anyone else for that matter.  
He knew now that everything was over, him and Sam would go back to their every day hunting routine, interspersed with hunts that would possibly bring them closer to the apocalypse.  
Dean wasn’t so sure about Laurel, however. Maybe she would continue hunting, or maybe she would settle down and help run the shop with Lilianna. Dean didn’t know, and he wasn’t quite sure how to act.  
He didn’t even want to talk to her about what she did in that circle. He felt like she knew the ritual wasn’t going to work, but she let everyone think otherwise so no one panicked or acted irrationally. In a way he felt betrayed, but he put his bitter notions aside and tried to settle with the fact that she did what she did because she cared.  
One thing still hung low over him. Laurel had drank his blood to connect their souls to one another and detach hers from Inanna. Had that worked? Were he and Laurel now tethered to one another?  
So many questions had arisen in his mind and he had no idea how to go about obtaining answers for them.

Laurel had been immediately put to bed when they returned to the apartment. Lilianna had been beside herself after what she witnessed, making sure that Laurel was safe and sound, even though Castiel insisted that everything was over.  
When she woke up mid afternoon, she hardly spoke a word to anyone. She spent most of her time alone in her room or on the phone with someone only she knew.  
Around six in the evening she finally emerged from her bedroom, looking worn, yet satisfied. It was over and she now had to move on.  
“So, what are your plans?” Sam questioned Laurel, as she came to join her sister and the brother’s in the living room.  
“I need to get myself a new car and some peace of mind.” She sighed as she rifled through her military bag.  
“I found this for you.” She withdrew a worn leather journal from inside the bag and handed it to Dean.  
“When and where did you find it?” Dean took it gingerly and flipped through it, making sure that everything was still in place.  
“I thought they had taken it, but I was wrong. It was under my pillow. I guess the wards they put up confused me into thinking that they had absconded with it.” She shrugged.  
“I’m glad it was here. I don’t know what Sam and I would do if we didn’t have this. It’s saved our asses more times than I can count.” Dean slipped it into a pocket inside his jacket.  
“Where are you two headed?” Laurel tried to act casual and uninterested, but her eyes told a different story.  
“Probably to Bobby’s for a bit. Let him know everything that went on and add this to our long list of broken seals.” Sam sighed, scooting closer to Lilianna. She looked up at him, sadness in her eyes.  
“That’s good.” Laurel responded and stood. “I’ve got an appointment with a guy down at the auto body shop you guys took me to when we first got here, so I better get to walking.”  
“Let me give you a ride.” Dean offered meekly.  
“It’s ok, Dean. I can walk.” Laurel tried to deny him one last moment of being together.  
“I insist.” Dean picked up his keys and came to Laurel, looping his arm through hers and escorting her towards the door.  
“Be back in a bit.” He called over his shoulder as the two walked out of the apartment.

 

(*)

 

Most of the journey to the body shop was in silence. Laurel stared out the window the majority of the ride and Dean stole quick glances at her every so often, wondering what could possibly be running through her mind.  
When they arrived, Laurel wasted no time in getting out of the car. She came around to Dean’s window and knelt down so she was face to face with him.  
“Thanks for the lift.” She smiled, but there was a fakeness in her expression.  
“You’re not going back, are you?” Dean knew these moves all too well.  
“I can’t, at least not for a while. Lilianna knows what I am now, and it could put her in grave danger. I can’t have that.” At least Laurel was being truthful.  
“You can’t even just let her know what you’re doing?” Dean tried to be helpful for Lilianna’s sake.  
“No, because I know her. She will try and look for me, and she has your number now. Don’t think that she won’t pester Sam about where I am. And I don’t want you to tell her anything. If she asks, you know nothing. It’s just better this way.” Laurel’s brow wrinkled. Dean thought maybe she was going to cry.  
“I don’t like this, but I can respect it. What are you going to do about the Bel Air?” Dean couldn’t believe she was just going to skip town and leave her only memory of her father behind.  
“There’s nothing I can do about it. She’s wrecked and it would take too much time and money to try and fix her up. I can’t leave her here at the shop without Lilianna getting suspicious. Someone will eventually claim her and give her a good home.” Again, Laurel was hiding how she really felt.  
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Dean wasn’t going to argue with her. Something was going on inside her head and she wasn’t about to let Dean know a thing.  
“Any way, I guess I’ll see you around.” Laurel straightened herself up and started to back away from the Impala without a response from Dean.  
He quickly unbuckled himself and stepped out of the car to stop her.  
Dean caught Laurel by the hand and spun her around to face him.  
“You’re just going to leave without saying anything to me?” Dean’s brow was furrowed in concern and confusion.  
“What is there to say, Dean? We saved the world from some nasty demon, but you know more are coming. I can’t just stop what I’m doing because I had one close call.” Laurel became defensive.  
“One close call? Laurel, you died. I watched you die, and so did your sister and Sam. There was no close call.” Dean roared, not believing what she just said.  
“But I’m alive now, aren’t I? Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. You wouldn’t do it for me, Dean, so I took matters into my own hands.” Laurel’s face was blank.  
“You knew. You knew the whole time that the ritual wasn’t going to work and you said nothing to any of us.” Dean’s blood was boiling.  
“I wasn’t sure, but I had a good feeling it wouldn’t work. If I told all of you that, what would you have to hope for? You’d be waiting for me to die.” Laurel didn’t understand why Dean was so angry.  
“No, we would have found another way that didn’t involve taking your own life!” Dean closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down.  
“There wasn’t another way and we were running out of time. Besides, Dean, I’m alive now. Why argue about something that is over and done with?” Laurel wanted the conversation to end, she had places to be.  
“You, know. I guess you’re right. Why argue with you? It’ll get me nowhere.” Dean felt defeated; he wasn’t going to get Laurel to tell him anything he wanted to know. There were no real reasons why, that made sense to him.  
“Go back to Sam, Dean. You guys have a lot of stuff that has to be done. More hunts to go on. More innocent people to save. More girls to have one night stands with. You don’t have time to stand here and argue with me,” Laurel’s tone was cool, soft in its sound. “Tell Lilianna I said I’d be home later, that way you won’t get in trouble.”  
Dean was completely dumbstruck. What had happened to Laurel? She seemed almost completely emotionless. Reminded him a lot of Castiel’s behavior.  
Laurel leaned into Dean and stood on her tiptoes. She planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth and whispered, “Just don’t forget me, Dean.” Dean didn’t notice her slip her hand into his pocket and pull out her crystal pendant she had given him when Inanna first overtook her. She was going to need that now.  
Quickly she turned and was gone.  
She didn’t give Dean a chance to say anything, she just walked off behind the auto body shop and disappeared.

Dean got back in his car robotically and turned the key in the ignition. He pulled out of the parking lot methodically. He was at a complete loss for words, or even thoughts.  
She just disappeared.  
Laurel promised him she wouldn’t go anywhere. She promised she wouldn’t do that and yet he just witnessed it.  
The ache that he felt when he thought about her was now replaced with a deep throbbing.  
He convinced himself that he’d never see her again, that he should just get used to the pain that he felt and move on. It was just like anything else he went through.  
Dean was jaded until he met Laurel. And now it seems that he would become that way again. A void that he hoped to fill became even emptier.  
The only thing Dean could do now was pick up his brother, lie to Lilianna about what Laurel was doing, and head out to Bobby’s for now.  
A thought struck him. He’d have at least one piece of her.  
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number.  
“Hey, Bobby. How quickly can you get a tow truck out to Salem? I got a classic that needs to be put to rest at your place.”


End file.
